Enhanced
by supportingcharacters
Summary: Marco Bodt is a human being scientifically modified. What that really means, is that he is part of the Enhanced - a group of humans with metal in their bones and circuits in their bodies, enhanced by the power of science. He has a bright future ahead of him, and if he values it he should really stop paying attention to Jean, a poor servant working for the wealthy Bodt family.
1. Chapter 1

**Caelum: **/ˈkɛː.lũ/  
noun  
1. Sky, heaven

**Terra **/ˈ /  
noun  
1. Land, earth, ground  
2. The world

* * *

"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."

-Oscar Wilde

* * *

Sunlight poured into the room as the curtains were thrown open. That was what made Marco stir from his sleep, blearily opening an eye. Whatever dream he had been having slipped away from his mind. For a moment he tried to remember it; it had been a good dream - that much he remembered. But no, it was gone.

He blinked his eye a few times, rubbing the sleep away from it. From the amount of light pouring in through the large window in his bedroom, he knew it must be morning. He had classes in a few hours but…his bed was so warm…Marco let his eye shut again, and he snuggled down into the pillows once more.

"Wake up, Bodt," came a familiar female voice.

Marco looked up from his swaddle of blankets at the speaker. That was odd; she rarely woke him up. Usually it was one of the Unenhanced maids who politely woke him up every morning, not her.

"Ymir?" he asked. Sure enough, there she was; his cousin.

"Yeah it's me. Now, get your ass out of bed, Marco." He saw her roll her eyes. "Yeah it's early, but my mother got back early and wants to see you before classes. And oh yeah, your dad wants to talk with you too."

Ymir's mother was one of the seniors in the security branch of the government. She had spent the weekend on Terra, the city on the ground. It was odd; usually she went for a week or two at a time; rarely for just two days.

And Marco's father…he wanted to speak to him. That usually never went down well. Marco groaned a little. More reason to stay in bed. "Tell them I'm sick," he said, pulling the blankets over his head.

"Hell no," Ymir replied, crossing her arms. "According to your dad, this morning we're eating breakfast _as a family._" The sarcasm was dripping from her voice. "I'm not sitting through a meal with them alone."

Marco shook his head, even though Ymir couldn't see him underneath his wrappings. He was so warm and comfortable and sleepy…why couldn't she leave him alone? Maybe if he kept refusing she would grow bored.

"Oh, Marco," he heard her say. He frowned; she was using _that _tone of voice, the tone she used when she was up to no good… "Don't you know by now that you can't, uh, _physically_ resist me?"

Marco groaned again. Ymir smirked, outstretching her arm and splaying her palm in the direction of the pile of blankets that Marco was hiding under. She could feel the hunk of metal in Marco's side; she could feel it even though she couldn't see it. She closed her fist, securing her mental hold on it. "You can't escape me when you have a metal arm!" She gave a tug in her direction.

Like a fish on a hook, Marco was yanked forward, arm first. He lurched forward, blankets and all, Ymir's metal force pulling his arm. He came right off of the bed, hitting the floor with a thud muffled by the blankets. He grunted, a curse slipping from his lips as Ymir howled with laughter.

"You," Marco said, as he slowly untangled himself from the pile of blankets on the floor. "Are a bully."

That only made Ymir laugh even harder. "Dumbass," she muttered under her breath, hands resting on her hips. After a moment, she extended her hand. Marco reached out with his left hand, letting her help him to his feet.

Now upright, he flexed his right hand. Despite Ymir being able to take complete control of it whenever she wanted to, it didn't feel any different. He opened and closed his fist; yes, his fingers still worked fine.

Like all Enhanced people, Marco was…modified. Man-made evolution, as Dr. Hange put it. From birth, the Enhanced had operations to improve their bodies by adding metal and circuits and wires and a hundred other things. Digestive systems modified to make them stronger, circuits intertwining with veins and arteries, eyes and ears enhanced for heightened senses.

And then, there were the abilities.

Most people had unique abilities; chosen by their parents. All though the initial operations to be enhanced happened at birth, when a child was eight or nine, they were operated on again. These operations resulted in special abilities.

For Ymir, special minerals were sent into her bloodstream, as well as thin metal plating under her skin. By concentrating, these minerals would gather under one of the metal plates, effectively turning it into a powerful magnet. Wherever she focused then, she could control and manipulate the metal. A tap could destroy a huge metal gate; gentle touch could mold steel as if it was clay. And a tug could send a teenage boy tumbling out of bed.

It was the same ability his father had, and it was incredibly powerful and effective. So much so, she didn't even need a secondary ability. Marco almost envied her strength.

"I'll leave you alone to get dressed," she said, stepping over the blankets and towards the bedroom door. "See you at breakfast."

Marco peeled off the shirt he wore in bed, heading towards the shower in the en suite bathroom. He suppressed a yawn; it was too early for this. Though, if he got back into bed Ymir would doubtlessly tug him out of it again.

He looked at his shirtless form in the bathroom mirror. Dark eyes scanned his reflection. He had his arm like this for nearly a decade now, but he didn't think he would ever get used to looking at it. His eyes ran over the place where smooth freckled skin ran into cool, dark steel. The plates of the strong metal overlapped slightly, so that although the metal was strong, his movement wasn't restricted.

He clenched his hand into a fist, grinning as he felt the circuits hidden behind the metal hum with power. Ymir might be able to bring down any metal structure with a flick of her wrist, but Marco was fairly sure he could bring one down with the strength in his arm.

His grin faded slightly as his gaze travelled up his reflection, landing on the dark eye-patch covering his right eye. Unfortunately, his father had deemed it prudent that he got a second ability, and unfortunately, the second one wasn't as successful as the first.

With a small sigh, Marco climbed into the shower, sighing in content as the hot water finally woke him up.

Fifteen minutes later, he was sitting down at the breakfast table. As usual with his family, things were too awkward and formal to be comfortable. The table was very large, too big for just five of them. Marco had seen it seat over twenty before. At the head of the table sat his father, a serious and intimidating man – as fitting, for someone of his rank. At the other end sat his mother. She was as beautiful as ever, but growing more distant with each passing day. Marco couldn't remember the last time they spoke; she seemed so far away most of the time that he wondered if she even knew he was there.

His aunt Ilse – Ymir's mother – sat beside his father, completely at ease. Confident and beautiful and just as intimidating as her older brother, Marco couldn't help but grace a small smile as he looked at her. She was everything he aimed to be; confident, strong, and independent. He admired his aunt a lot, and got along with her much better than he did with his own mother.

He sat in the middle of the table, with Ymir facing him. It was clear she didn't want to be there. She sat, barely eating and playing with her food, twisting her bacon around with her fork.

Nobody spoke. Marco's father was reading the morning papers, his mother was quiet, as usual. Ilse sat, as if waiting for her brother to say something. The other people in the room; the Unenhanced servants, stood quietly at the walls. Marco knew that the slightest motion would have them come forward, head bents respectfully and fearfully, to serve.

Marco looked expectantly from his father to Ilse. When he caught Ilse's eye, she just gave him a wink.

Eventually, Marco's father put his newspaper down. "I hear you and your classmates are going to Terra." It wasn't a question.

Marco nodded slowly. His father frowned, eyebrows tugging down into a disapproving expression. "Why?" he asked. "I don't particularly want you…down _there_."

"We've discussed this," Ilse said, her smile wavering and her voice sounding almost weary. "Kids these days have the privilege of spending all of their time up here on Caelum. They have no experience with the…_Unenhanced_." Isle said it as if it was a dirty curse word. "And in a few years, Marco will have taken over your position as head of security. How do you expect him to carry out that role if he can't deal with _them_?"

Another thing Marco admired about Ilse was her usual sunny disposition. Ilse had one of the toughest jobs in the security department. Marco's father was the head of security; he was in charge of certain branches of the Military Police, the protection of the King, and the protection of the Enhanced from the Unenhanced.

Ilse, although she wasn't as senior in the department as her brother, had a harder job. Much of her job involved spending time down on Terra, interacting with the Unenhanced; making them bend to the rules and punishing those who didn't. It was her job to make sure they knew their place. It was increasingly difficult, from what Marco heard. There always had been attempts on her life; the Unenhanced hated her (how they could, Marco never knew how; sure she was strict, but she wasn't unreasonable). Ilse was strong though, she always dealt with them easily. Recently though, there had been rumors of a revolution. Riots had been breaking out more and more often, led by a group calling themselves "Survey."

Yet, despite all of these stresses, she never failed to be cheery and bright. Marco rarely saw her without a smile on her face, it was one of the reasons he loved her. Now, though, she seemed weary, badly concealed stress was visible behind her tired attempt of a smile. Maybe, Marco thought, these rumors about a revolution weren't just rumors. He didn't worry too much though; even if she was more tired because of it, he didn't think for a moment she couldn't handle it. No matter how unruly these Unenhanced were being, Ilse would be able to keep them under control.

His father looked sternly down at his sister. "They have experience dealing with the Unenhanced," he said, waving a hand in a vague gesture around the room.

Ilse shook her head, and Marco caught Ymir rolling her eyes. "They have experience dealing with these quiet Unenhanced servants, who know their place. They have no clue what it's like down below, in Terra. Neither do you, if you think experience with these," Ilse mimicked his gesture, motioning towards the Unenhanced servants standing at the walls, "is enough."

From the glare he fixed his sister with, he wasn't impressed. He opened his mouth, about to say something, but he was interrupted by his wife. "Please stop arguing, dear," she said softly. "You know it's necessary. All of this protesting is useless."

Marco's father said nothing. "She's right," Ilse said quietly.

He sighed, and suddenly looked older than he was. "I know. I just…don't like the thought of Marco down there with _them_." He rubbed his temples slowly.

"I'll be fine, father," Marco put in, speaking for the first time.

Ilse nodded. "That's why I was down over the weekend, remember? You're not the only one with worries. We've been setting up extra security, and there are two squads of Military Police officers whose priority is to guard the students. Besides, even if they were alone, I doubt any of them could lay a finger on these two. Or any of the other students, for that matter."

His father sighed again, nodding curtly. "I'm just worrying," he said, more to himself than anyone else. He looked over at Marco, smiling a little. "Forgive your old man for fretting. You're eighteen now. You can look after yourself, I daresay."

Marco grinned himself, nodding his head. A lot of the time, his father commanded an intimidating presence, keeping everyone near him – including his only son – on their toes. Sometimes though, he showed his softer side. Marco's chest swelled with pride at his vote of encouragement.

"Still, I'd like to speak to you before you leave." Marco nodded, draining the last of his coffee. "Come to my office before you head out this morning." His father stood up, nodding at Marco and patting Ilse's shoulder gently before leaving the table. Marco finished up soon after, leaving the dining room. Ymir followed him.

They were both in the same year at school. In Caelum, everyone went to school until they were eighteen. Once they graduated, kids had a number of choices: become assistants to their parents, learning the ways of their job before eventually taking over from them. Enlist in the Military Police. Or become a civil servant, and eventually become a teacher or a doctor or a number of other professions.

For Marco, it wasn't a choice. Not really; he would have to take over his father's job of head of security. He didn't mind much; he always wanted to serve the King. In a number of years, he would be protecting him.

The trip down to Terra, the city on the ground where the Unenhanced lived, had been planned for weeks. Despite it, according to officials like Ilse and the teachers, being crucial for young Enhanced to have experience down there, many parents had been outraged, forbidding their children to go.

Terra…it wasn't like Caelum. It was full of poverty, inhabited only by the Unenhanced. Slums were everywhere, and according to rumors when you went down you would sometimes see bodies in the street, where people had starved to death. Marco figured it was just a rumor though; besides, did it really matter much? They were only Unenhanced people, after all.

"Is Historia coming?" he asked Ymir.

Ymir scoffed at him. "Oh yeah, like the fucking Princess is coming down to Terra."

"Well," Marco said, raising his hands. "She'll be the Queen someday. Doesn't she need experience with the Unenhanced?"

Ymir shrugged. "I don't know the fucking details. Who cares anyway? She'll get plenty of experience when she's older."

Marco nodded. He supposed that was true enough.

He ran back to his room, quickly brushing his teeth and changing his eye patch before grabbing his schoolbag. It was filled with large books, but he didn't even feel the weight as he slung the bag over his right shoulder.

Running back down the grand staircase, he stopped outside his father's office. Taking a deep breath, he knocked a few times on the door. "Come in," his father said almost immediately.

The office, like everything else in their house, was grand. A long rectangular room, one wall was completely made out of glass, offering a view of Caelum stretched out in front of him. The sun glinted off of the buildings, and hovercars weaved in between the clouds. The opposite wall was filled floor to ceilings with shelves, stacked with books and documents. Knowing Marco's father, each document, volume, or file was stacked in perfect alphabetical order.

Facing Marco, reclining behind an oak and glass desk, was his father. Jeremiah Bodt was tall and built strongly, just like his son. Although they shared the same dark skin, freckles and dark hair, he lacked the warmth Marco had. More often than not, he was frowning, whereas Marco rarely was seen without a smile. He was somebody who demanded respect and attention, somebody you didn't want to cross.

He studied Marco for a moment, before his expression softened. He wasted no time in getting to the point. "I want you to keep your wits about you today," he said. "I know you'll be protected, but you need to remember; on the ground, it's a different world. A different world, with different rules. The Unenhanced…they aren't like us. They're savages, who will rip you to shreds if you leave yourself exposed."

He shook his head a little at that. "I'm sorry, that was an exaggeration. But I do mean it; use your brains and stick with your group. If you wander off alone and into the wrong part of town, you could be in danger."

Marco nodded silently, his mouth dry. Despite his father's warnings, he was excited. He had grown up hearing about Terra, the terrible city underneath Caelum. He had heard the rumors, rumors about the wild and savage Unenhanced, rumors about the infamous red light district that attracted so many of the Military Police and other Enhanced higher ups, rumors about criminals and the crimes they did to each other. It was scary, of course; a few well behaved Unenhanced lived in the mansion, ones that were always respectful and knew their place. Going into a city full of Unenhanced where they might not be as respectful…no wonder the parents weren't happy. But despite this, Marco couldn't suppress his excitement. He would finally be able to see it for himself.

"And if you do get into any difficulty, which I'm positive you won't…" his father pushed up his shirt sleeve slightly, tapping at the dial fixed into his right wrist. "You know what to do."

Marco nodded again.

The main difference with the Unenhanced was that they hadn't any modifications. Their organs weren't as strong, their bones weren't as strong, and their senses weren't nearly as strong. They had no special abilities, and were prone to sicknesses.

The only modification they had were the collars.

At birth, every Unenhanced child was fitted with a special collar. These collars were fixed right into their very skin; impossible to take off. It was a measure taken to keep them under control.

One of the modifications every Enhanced child went through was an operation on the eyes and wrist. They could focus their non-dominant eye and zoom in to focus on people or objects. Everyone also had a special dial fixed into their wrists, going from zero to ten.

By switching this dial onto one of the numbers and focusing in on any Unenhanced, all they had to do was bring their thumb and index finger together. The collar of the unlucky Unenhanced would emit an electric shock. The severity of the shock depended on the number the dial was at; one meant a small but sharp pang, nine was agonizingly painful. Ten would kill in an instant.

Marco wasn't sure of the technology behind it – as far as he knew, it was something to do with their eyes giving off signals when they focused on an Unenhanced – but he knew that it was one of their most effective weapons. Just by looking at them and tapping their fingers together, they could bring an Unenhanced person to their knees.

Luckily Marco never was in a situation where he had to use his before. Still, it was reassuring to know that if an Unenhanced person ever got too close…he would be able to deal with it without even needing his main abilities.

"If you're in danger," Marco's father continued. "Please, don't hesitate to use your dial. It's there for a reason, after all."

"Yes, father." Marco pushed his own shirt sleeve up a little. There, in the smooth expanse of his metal skin, was the little dial, currently at zero. He ghosted his fingers over it.

"One of the things you need to learn is how to use it without mercy," continued his father. "I've been in situations where if I hesitated, I could have died. You'll be safe today Marco, but there's something you need to remember; the Unenhanced may not be as strong as us, but they're still very, very dangerous."

"You're not turning yours on?" Marco asked, as he leaned down to flick the tiny switch built into his ankles. Immediately he felt the familiar hum in the soles of his feet.

Ymir gave a shrug in response. "I won't need it. I won't fall. And even if I did, I can save myself." She flexed her fingers, and Marco nodded. It was true; she didn't need her magnetism turned on when she could create the same effect herself.

The wind blew softly through the city. Caelum was the first city like this, suspended in the sky. All of the buildings started off in Terra, of course, but they were so incredibly tall that from here, you could only see Terra on cloudless days. Each building was hundreds and hundreds of floors tall. The Bodt family mansion resided in the penthouse of one of these buildings.

Of course, they needed a way to move from one building to the other. Light walkways made out of a special metal wound between all of the buildings. Of course, as an extra precaution, another modification they had since birth was magnetism in their feet.

All Enhanced were required to turn it on when using these walkways. By switching the magnets in the soles of their feet on, they stayed on the walkways, and there was no chance of plummeting to your death.

Ymir walked out onto the narrow pathway. They were all one way, and wide enough for two people to walk side by side. "You coming?" she asked, turning and tapping her foot impatiently. "Or are you gonna stand there all day?"

Marco rolled his eyes before following her. She walked much quicker than him and he struggled to keep up with her as they made their way to the skyline stop. Though, that probably had to do with the fact that she didn't have her magnetism turned on. Sure, magnetism was a safety precaution and all, but it slowed you down a bit, making you drag your feet as you walked.

Ten minutes later and they were at the Skyline stop. The Skyline was a method of public transportation, a high speed train that all but flew around the city on tracks made out of the same materials as the pathways.

As soon as he boarded, Marco heard them.

"Heeeeeeey, Marco! Over here!" Sasha leaned to the side, one hand clutching the handrail and the other waving madly. Marco could hear Ymir sigh. "That idiot," she mumbled under her breath.

Marco grinned, making his way over to his friends. Connie was beside Sasha, grinning widely. "Today's the day, dude! We get to see down below!"

The Skyline was packed with students heading to school. Marco wedged in between them to reach his friends, while Ymir elbowed everyone out of her way. "You'd want to be careful, blockhead," she said. "Knowing you, you'll go out and get yourself killed by some thug."

"Yeah right!" Connie said back. Marco took a hold of the handrail with his left hand. "If any of them tried anything, I'd send their ass back to hell!" he boasted loudly.

Sasha giggled beside him. "More like you'd run away and scamper up a tower back to Caelum."

Marco laughed while Connie looked betrayed. "Sasha! You're meant to be on my side here!"

Marco's gaze fell on Connie's hands. Both were covered in the same type of metal his arm was made of, but with different purposes. Marco's arm was incredibly strong, whereas Connie's hands and feet could act with a sort of suction function. Marco had seen him run up walks and across ceilings. Marco also knew that if he needed to, Connie probably _could_ run up a building back to Caelum.

"Please, Connie, I'm always on your side…at least, most of the time." Sasha giggled again, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Anyway, what about you Marco? Excited?"

Marco shrugged and smiled. "I guess, I mean…we've grown up hearing about Terra and now we finally get to see it!"

Ymir gave a drawn out sigh. "I'm surrounded by idiots," she muttered under her breath. "If you heard half the stories my Mom told be about Terra, you wouldn't be so damn excited."

Connie scoffed. "You're just jealous because Histo- shit! I mean, you're just jealous because _Krista_ isn't coming."

Ymir elbowed him in the ribs. "Shut it, Springer."

The day passed by slowly. They all had morning classes and weren't going down to Terra until the afternoon. They weren't going down for very long, Marco noted with slight disappointment. As far as he knew, they were getting a brief tour of the main city. There was tension in the air, all of the students glancing at their watches every five minutes. Although they all had been drilled to be on their best behavior – after all, it was dangerous down there – everyone was excited.

Finally, two o' clock came.

The first class of thirty had to meet in the school hall. Because it would be much too difficult to bring the whole year down at once, they were going in classes; Marco's class was first this week, another class next week, and so-on, until they all had made the trip down. Although there were usually thirty in the class, only nineteen students were going; many parents simply refused to let their children go.

He stood with Connie and Sasha as the principal of the school gave them a lecture on how well they needed to behave down below. "Pity Armin isn't in this class," Connie murmured. "He'd love this. He's always going on about how he wants to find out more about the Unenhanced."

Sasha shrugged, steadily making her way through a can of potato chips. "He'll be going next week," she said. "He'll get over it."

Marco nodded. "Pity His-uh, Krista couldn't come."

Now it was Connie's turn to shrug. "Don't think she cares much, man. Besides, she'll have time for that when she's older."

The principal wrapped up his lecture, and they left the school. They all boarded the Skyline to the Admin towers. The journey only must have taken five minutes, but it stretched on forever. Marco stared listlessly out of the windows. He could see right down today; aside from a few wispy things, there were barely any clouds. He could see the dark of the city below. Because Terra was on the ground, and because all of the buildings rose so high into Caelum, it was often shrouded in shadow. The only time you could really see it was at night, when the lights were just about visible from up here.

Marco had spent many cloudless nights looking down at the lights dotted on the ground like stars, wondering what it was like down there. No matter what Ilse said about Terra, it certainly looked beautiful from a distance.

As did everything, he supposed.

An eternity of five minutes later, the Skyline pulled up at the spot outside of the Admin towers. The Admin towers were three buildings, huge even on a Caelum level. Hundreds of offices ran in these buildings; nearly all of the government departments ran from here. Marco could see them in the windows as he stepped out onto the walkway, flicking his magnetism on. Countless people flitting about, busy as ever.

The Admin towers also had the fastest gravity pods in the city. Gravity pods were essentially elevators; except huge ones, that could fit up to fifty people at a time. And instead of moving between floors, gravity pods transported people at high speeds from Caelum to Terra.

Four members of the Military Police stood at the entrance to the pod as they boarded. They checked their fingerprints quickly with scanners as they boarded – each Enhanced person had a lot of data stored through their fingerprints. A scan would bring up all the information about a person on a computer; name, date of birth, family records, criminal records, even a photo. The process usually only took thirty seconds.

Needless to say, they had to be careful about who they let on to these pods. Security was very tight.

Finally, the nineteen students and the teachers accompanying them had boarded. Marco stood beside Connie and Sasha. "So…" he said, glancing around. "I presume those Military Police squads are meeting us at the bottom?"

He was excited of course. But also, a little nervous. He wouldn't admit it though.

Connie shrugged. One of the boys standing beside Marco turned to him. Thomas Wagner, that was his name. Marco didn't know him that well. "Wait a second, there's two Military Police squads accompanying us?" He groaned. His friend beside him, Nack, sighed.

"That means there's no chance of any fun down there," he said, shaking his head.

Marco quirked an eyebrow. "Fun?"

"What do you mean by "fun?"" came another voice, taking the words out of Marco's mouth. He looked up to see another classmate, Marlowe Freudenberg approaching them, fists clenched and eyes narrowed.

Thomas raised an eyebrow before laughing. He tapped the dial on his wrist. "Me and Nack were planning to get away for a while, test out our dials."

"See if they're as effective as everyone says they are," Nack added.

Marlowe frowned, glowering at the two. Marco was a little taken aback himself. "You mean you were going to take innocent people and put them through the pain of your dials?" He was clearly disgusted.

Nack was unfazed. "Well…we could use practice, right? This whole thing is for experience, I don't see how much experience we can get without using our dials."

It was almost like Marlowe was trying to prevent himself from yelling, he looked furious. He was another kid Marco didn't know too much about. He knew he was a hard worker, one of the ace students in the class, but his knowledge of him ended there. "Regardless," he hissed. "You would do that to another, innocent, human being?"

Nack and Thomas burst out laughing. Marco cracked a smile himself, and he could see Sasha and Connie suppressing giggles. "Calm down, dude!" Thomas managed eventually, after regaining some composure. "I mean, they're only the Unenhanced!"

Marlowe scowled. "They're humans too."

Connie rolled his eyes. "If you love them so much, why don't you go live in Terra?"

Marlowe's chest seemed to swell with pride. "I'm going to wait until I get a position in government," he said. "Then I'm going to start a campaign about their rights, so that ignorant fools like you can't mindlessly hurt them."

Thomas scoffed. Marco bit on his lip to prevent himself from laughing. This Marlowe guy was supposed to be smart, but if he was coming out with stuff like this…it was lucky that nobody apart from them five were hearing this. Otherwise, he'd probably be sent to a doctor.

"Good luck with that," Nack said, snorting into his hand. Sasha gently took Marco and Connie's elbows and led them away. "C'mon," she whispered. "We don't want to be seen involved with someone like him."

Once out of earshot, they fell into laughter.

And then, one of the Policemen was yelling, saying the pod was launching and instructing them to hold onto the handrails. Marco grasped a nearby one, about to say something to Connie when suddenly, the floor dropped.

Of course, it was just the pod descending. But the initial speed took him by surprise; it was far faster than any elevator. And longer too; he looked outside of the windows and saw Caelum disappear. First, the high class parts of the buildings zipped away. The further down they went the less wealthy the city was. Marco could feel the pressure building up in his ears.

About five minutes later they entered that in between zone; the parts of the buildings between Caelum and Terra. Nearly all of these, he knew, were used as army barracks. Another few minutes to go.

His ears popped, and he muttered a curse under his breath. He looked at his friends; Sasha's face was pressed against the glass, barely holding on as she drank in every detail outside of the window. Connie looked faintly green, as if he might get sick at any moment.

And then suddenly; they were in Terra. Marco could see it; the lower parts of the buildings. He knew from Ilse that most of the Unenhanced lived in the tiny buildings around the city; they weren't allowed into the huge skyscrapers that reached Caelum. Despite it being the afternoon, it was already dark. The skyscrapers of Caelum blocked out most of the light.

The Unenhanced were everywhere. It was surreal. Up on Caelum, nearly all of the Enhanced had metal encasing some part of their bodies. Here though, there were masses of them, the only metal being the collar around their necks.

They were all so pale. And thin. And there were so many of them; Marco had only ever seen a handful at a time.

And unlike the ones who worked as servants in Caelum, these didn't look so friendly.

The pod came to a shuddering stop, and Marco was able to get a better look at them. They glanced at the pod as they walked past, distrust in their eyes. He watched them as they went by; kept a safe distance from the pod by the Military Police; first, a boy with strikingly green eyes. He slowed as he passed, pointing at the pod. A girl wearing a ratty red scarf beside him quickly pulled him along before he caught the attention of the policemen. On the other side, Marco noticed a young man with dirty blond hair shaved into an undercut help a younger woman cross the street. He guessed that they were related, due to their resemblance.

Looking back to the window closest to him, Marco saw a trio on the other side of the street point to them. A young woman with blonde hair made a gesture. Two men beside her; both at least half her height taller than her leant down to listen as she whispered something.

No matter where he looked, they all had the same hardened expressions. They all looked tough and…unhappy. And despite the lack of metal on their bodies, despite the telltale collars around their necks, they all looked dangerous.

The glass doors to the pod swung open. Just outside, the two squads of Military Police were waiting. "Ah, you finally got here!" their leader greeted. "Welcome to Terra." His lips pulled up into a wry smile. "Welcome to hell."


	2. Chapter 2

"We are the choices we make. And have to make. We aren't anything else."

-Patrick Ness

* * *

Marco's father had told him once, that flying was the one thing humans had always strived to do. The Old Ones had made clunky, awkward machines; airplanes, they had been called. But they had no grace; there was no elegance or subtlety in the way in which those machines had thundered across the sky.

Later, the Enhanced had improved on those airplanes; making smaller, quicker, more graceful machines that glided through the air. Some of the Enhanced even had abilities that allowed them to fly. But, his father had explained, humans were only ever allowed to fly because of technology; they would never be able to fly without it, to fly naturally. "We are the ultimate life forms, on this Earth," he had said. "Yet we still envied birds, and the way flying is second nature to them. We would always reach for the sky, though. That's why we built Caelum – a city among the clouds."

"And the Unenhanced," he had added in a darker tone, "Are the ones whose own greed and laziness prevent them from becoming great like us. Their own sins and characteristics are what chain them to the ground."

At the time, young Marco hadn't understood what his father had meant. They had Unenhanced staff working in their very home, after all – how were they chained to the ground? Still, his father's words had stuck with him. He often spent time gazing out of the great glass windows in his home; or walking along the walkways and looking down. He had always loved Caelum, and the higher he was, the better. He loved the open sky, he loved looking at the clouds below and around him, and he loved the sense of freedom that came with it.

How amazing, he had often wondered, would it be to jump off into the open air, and glide around the sky, as free as a bird? Without any sort of vehicle, or Enhanced ability; to just naturally take to the air, and glide among the winds.

Sadly, it was a question that would never be answered. He had tried to convince his parents to let him get an ability that would allow him to fly. They had refused, on the basis that in his future line of work, there would be no need for flying; abilities that would let him fight were what he really needed.

Still, he had always loved Caelum, even if he would never be able to fly. He adored looking down from the highest spot he could get to, and see the world spread out underneath him. He loved the way the sky looked at night, when he was out walking among the stars. He loved the gentle breeze up there, loved the way the world would rush by below as he zoomed across on the skyline, he loved it all. Caelum was like some sort of heaven to him.

This could explain why he immediately didn't like Terra. Caelum was bright, beautiful, clean, and safe. Terra was anything but. The great glass and metal structures up in Caelum started here, but down here they were ugly concrete masses. Marco guessed he could understand the logic behind it; with buildings as tall as these, they needed strong bases, right? Still, they were an eyesore; made uglier by all of the graffiti scrawled across them.

Insults to the Enhanced, mostly, he noticed. But also, the word Survey was there quite a bit. He began to notice some sort of logo repeated too; a pair of wings overlapping.

Marco tilted his head back. He could just about see a little bit of blue sky. Despite being the afternoon, Terra was dark; nearly all light blocked by the massive buildings. And the buildings down here; the smaller ones where the Unenhanced lived and worked, were all ugly things, clustered together in overcrowded streets. Everything was dull and dirty; even the air seemed unclean; there was an awful smell, and it seemed a lot stuffier down here.

If Caelum was a heaven, Terra was, without a doubt, hell.

Any excitement he'd had was long gone; a sick feeling of dread replacing it. He didn't like it down here, it felt too confined. He was beginning to feel claustrophobic; he longed to be back in the open spaces of Caelum, among the clouds. He felt so…unsafe here; despite all of the guards protecting them, he could see the dark expressions of the Unenhanced glaring at them. To make himself feel better, he focused on their collars. If they tried anything, he reasoned, all he would have to do was flick the dial on his wrist. And it wouldn't even come to that; the threat of the guards would keep them away.

Their teacher did a headcount, before leading them through the city. The Military Police followed closely. He quickly discovered the teacher was just prattling back what they had heard a hundred times before; the history of Caelum and Terra, why they had to separate the Enhanced and Unenhanced to keep the Unenhanced evil from spreading, why they; the next generation, had to learn not to hesitate to teach them their place. It was something they heard so much; Marco could probably recite it at this stage.

He usually was a good student, but he didn't hesitate to tune out down here, focusing on their surroundings.

They were lead through the main streets of Terra. Drowning the teacher's words out, Marco focused on the Unenhanced. They all looked beaten down and tired; many thin, all in dirty clothing and dark collars. Marco was glad they were kept down here; he didn't want people like this cluttering up his Caelum.

Many crowded the streets; slumping against the walls and sitting on steps. They were quiet as they walked by, throwing hateful looks at the students, before throwing fearful ones at the Military Police. One woman sat on a step, cradling a tiny baby in her bony arms. A group of young boys stood on the roof of a tiny two-story building, giving them the middle finger before running away.

Marco looked over his shoulder, to where two young men and a young woman were following the procession at a distance. He frowned, recognizing them to have been at the pod gates. Why were they following them? The dread in his stomach coiled a little bit, clenching at his insides. The two young men were tall, the woman was tiny. But they looked strong; without a doubt they must be employed in some sort of physical work. The woman was the one who caught his attention the most; her delicate features contrasting with her fierce blue eyes and strong frame.

The sick feeling grew, and Marco turned around.

Connie nudged him with his elbow. "You okay, man?"

Marco nodded. "I've heard about this place, but being here is…"

"Unreal?"

"Unreal."

Sasha sidled up to them. "Look at them," she whispered. Despite the situation, there was a small smile on her lips. "They look so hungry, as if they're going to eat us alive!"

Connie paled. "That's going to give me nightmares, Sasha," he muttered.

Sasha giggled, and despite himself, Marco gave a weak smile.

He fell behind them a little bit; watching their backs as they nudged and elbowed each other, exchanging teases and insults. He felt a little better now; he did have his friends down here, after all.

Hearing whispering behind him; Marco glanced at two boys walking behind him. Thomas and Nack, he noted. The two guys from earlier. They were having a very hushed conversation with one of the Military Police, who was grinning lopsidedly. Frowning, Marco turned his attention back to his teacher just as they rounded a corner, coming onto one of the wider streets.

Immediately, his eyes widened.

"Holy shit," Connie said beside him.

This street obviously must have served for some sort of main street or town square for the people of Terra. Unlike the other cramped streets, here was an open space. More Unenhanced crowded the streets here than anywhere else. That wasn't what had surprised him; it was the statue in the middle of the square.

It was huge stone sculpture, far bigger than his own height. It was kind of sickening, too. Hundreds of humans, (Unenhanced, Marco noted, seeing all of their collars), writhing in pain, crying out and reaching up. They were all being crushed under a massive throne, on which sat a man wearing a crown. The Reiss crown, Marco realized, recognizing it.

"This sculpture," came the voice of his teacher. "Was commissioned by King Elric Reiss, the first. Shortly after the first generation of Enhanced, he ordered this to be built in the center of Terra; as a reminder to the Unenhanced to their rightful place. Under us." She finished with a beam, pausing as she gazed at it for a moment, before launching into the tale of its construction.

"Fuck," Sasha breathed in front of him. She elbowed Connie, pointing just beyond the statue. "Look over there."

Marco followed where she was pointing.

_Fuck._

Gallows.

No; looking closer he could see that they weren't gallows; not really. Someone was hanging from them, but by his wrists, not his neck. His wrists were bound above his neck, hanging from the frame. The person, a man, from what he could see, was shirtless; bloody scratches crisscrossing across his back. He had been whipped, Marco realized with a sinking feeling. Whipped and left hanging by his wrists, for who knew how long?

"I wonder what he did," said Connie.

"I think he's still alive," said Sasha.

Marco said nothing for a few moments. He couldn't help but pity the man; it did seem a bit…cruel. Inhumane.

_You're being a fool_, he told himself. _You can't be inhumane with the Unenhanced. They're not human anyway; not really. They're stuck in this hell because of their own mistakes; they're lazy and greedy and evil, so they haven't evolved like we have. They can't adapt to Enhanced abilities like us, they can't live in Caelum. It's their own fault they're down here_.

"He probably deserved it," Marco said after a few minutes. "Ilse works down here; she's not cruel. Whatever happened, he deserved this." Connie and Sasha nodded in agreement.

He heard whispers again. Looking behind him, he saw Thomas and Nack speaking to the Policeman again. It was the policeman at the very back of the group; all of the others were focused on the rest of the students. Nobody but Marco noticed when the Policeman slipped away, beckoning for Thomas and Nack to follow.

The two boys exchanged a look, barely concealed excitement glinting in their eyes.

The policeman began whispering to some of the others. Marco let his curiosity get the better of him, and focused on his voice, zoning in with his enhanced hearing.

"Corporal Wagner – you know him, of course you do; he paid me to give his son a real taste of Terra, instead of this wishy-washy bullshit. Are you going to disagree with his orders?"

"N-no, sir."

"Didn't think so. Come on, boys."

The policeman began walking away, Thomas and Nack following excitedly.

Marco chewed on his bottom lip. "Thomas!" he called, after his back. Turning his head, Thomas looked back. Right now, all of their classmates and teachers were focused on the hideous statue. The other policemen had heard the apparent orders from Corporal Wagner, and weren't saying a thing. The only one who noticed them gone was Marco; even Connie and Sasha hadn't seen, they were too busy discussing the Unenhanced man hanging by his wrists.

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "What is it now, Marco? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Where do you think you're going?" Marco asked. "We were told not to leave the group."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Listen, Marco – we all know that this tour, or whatever it is, won't do anything for us. We're getting a real taste of Terra."

Marco glanced over his shoulder, at the rest of the class. At the Unenhanced cowering away, hiding from the group of them.

"Hey," Thomas said, voice brightening a little. "You're gonna be working in the Police later, aren't you? So will I, that's why dad arranged this. Your dad would agree, we need to see the reality down here. Come with us."

Marco rolled the fingers of his left hand into a fist. He'd admit, the offer was tempting. He was curious about the Unenhanced; he couldn't deny it, despite being nervous and on edge down here. But he really should stay with the group…Thomas, Nack, and the policeman would probably end up in huge trouble.

That said…could he really just let two of his classmates go off in Terra alone? Granted, they had a policeman with them, granted that there were plenty of them about in the city, but anything could go wrong down here. And Marco was the son of one of the most important people in Caelum, in a few years Marco would be serving King Reiss. And well, Nack and Thomas were nice people, but they didn't always make good decisions. If something happened to them, and he hadn't told anyone where they were, it would be his fault.

"You coming?"

Marco glanced over his shoulder once before nodding. "Yeah."

Away from the main group of students and policemen, the Unenhanced were much more intimidating. The policeman in front of him walked with confidence through the streets. Marco's one open eye kept flickering from right to left. The streets were definitely more packed around here, and the looks of contempt from the Unenhanced seemed worse now that he wasn't surrounded by trained by policemen.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the blonde woman and her two male companions following from behind, still a distance away, but still _there_. His stomach lurched.

Nack elbowed him, noticing his discomfort. "Dude," he said, nodding to where policemen on patrol were stationed. "Relax. We're safe."

Marco just nodded, not quite believing it but relaxing a little. He decided to tune in to what the policeman was saying to Thomas.

"You see, you need to show them who's boss. These people? They're scum. Barely can be called people, really. But they've a very…active imagination, you could say. Give them a break and they'll be dreaming of overthrowing us. We need to remind them of their place, y'know? And words don't get through their thick skulls, so the only way to remind them, is violence."

Marco's left eye widened slightly.

"Keep it random, y'know? It keeps them on their toes. And if you're gonna become a part of the Police, you'll need to be used to seeing it and dealing it out."

The policeman raised an arm, gesturing for them to stop walking. His blue eyes scanned the people around them. "You want a taste of reality on Terra? I'll give you a demonstration."

Marco's throat was dry. He looked at the people around them: a young woman was guiding her young son away from them. They were both very thin, and even from this distance Marco could see the fear in her eyes. He could see a man standing at the corner, leaning against the wall. His eyes, partially hidden by long hair, were focused on the policeman. He looked tense, as if he was getting ready to bolt at any moment. A young man and a younger woman came out of one of the buildings. They looked like teenagers, the boy's hair cut in a style resembling an undercut, one arm curled protectively against the girl. He remembered seeing them at the pod exit.

If it wasn't for the collars curled around all of their necks, he could almost think that they were people, like him or Connie or Sasha, or Thomas or Nack. They all had names, he was sure, and families, and stories, and thoughts. He doubted they had many dreams, though; they couldn't do much down here.

Marco knew better; he knew who they were, what they were. But surrounded by them, it was harder to see them as the scum he knew they were.

"You. Step forward."

The policeman raised a hand, pointing to the girl walking with the guy with the undercut.

Marco gulped.

Now that he looked closer, they looked alike. They shared the same shade of hair; somewhere between an ash brown and a dirty blonde. They also had the same hazel eyes, and the same sharp nose. They must be related, he decided, most likely siblings.

He was nervous. Marco had an idea of what to expect, and he didn't like it. He knew that it would be something that he would have to deal with when he was older, but right now, it wasn't something he wanted to think about.

The girl's hazel eyes widened, sending a fearful glance back to her brother. The brother paled, eyes flickering between them. For a second, they lingered on Marco. Marco felt a little sick. The girl took a few steps towards them, unsure of herself. He noticed that she wobbled slightly on her feet. The Unenhanced all around them stopped whatever they were doing, the buzz of talk gradually dying down. They all got out of the way, forming a circle around them.

"I presume you kids know how to use your dials?" the policeman asked. "Whatever - using them and knowing how to use them are very different things. It'll be good to get some practice."

Marco glanced at his two classmates; they looked a little apprehensive, but curious. Marco wished he hadn't come with them.

"What are you gonna start with?"

The policeman tilted his head. "Three."

The girl took a sharp breath, quickly taking a step back. The policeman's hand went to the dial on his right wrist, twisting the dial, and-

"Ah!" There was a humming sound, and the girl's hands went to her neck. Marco would never know what getting shocked with a collar would be like, but her reaction told him everything he needed to know. She was gasping for breath, stumbling backwards with her eyes closed and face scrunched up in pain. She would have fallen if her brother hadn't caught her. Murmurs were flying through the crowd. Marco looked up to the roof of a nearby building. Two policemen were stationed there, he hoped they might intervene, but instead they looked on with an expression nearing amusement.

After a moment, the policeman clicked his dial off. The girl sank into her brother's arms, breathing heavily. Angry whispers were spreading across the crowd of Unenhanced, and Marco was becoming more uneasy by the minute.

"That was wicked," Thomas breathed. There was a glint in his eye, the same glint present in the policeman's. Marco could understand the appeal, to be honest; all their life they had been told that they had this power but were never given a chance to use it. For the first time, they were really seeing the control they had over the Unenhanced.

Marco couldn't enjoy it, though. He was too uneasy, too aware of the mass of Unenhanced in the area, too aware of the looks of anger on their faces.

"Your turn," the policeman said, with a smirk.

Thomas's eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. Think she can take a five? Heh, only one way to find out."

"No," the boy spoke, eyes narrowed. "No, she hasn't done anything – please, she's sick-"

Thomas flicked his dial up to five, and the girl let out a loud cry. Tears were squeezing from under her eyelids now. The boy looked frantically around, unsure what to do, searching for help in the crowd. "Stop!" he yelled.

"Stop," Marco whispered, but it was so quiet nobody heard it. He didn't like this; this was nothing like what he had heard, this was too real.

Thomas flicked his dial off, his grin wider. "Nack," he said, grinning at his friend.

His grin was reflected in Nack's face. He turned back to the girl.

The brother turned suddenly, shielding her body with his own. The one fault with the collar and dial system was that your eyes had to focus in on the victim's body. Like this, Nack couldn't focus on her, only on him. He let out an impatient huff. "Move," he said. "Or I'll shock you instead."

The boy didn't move a muscle.

Nack turned his dial up to seven, frowning at the boy's back. The humming sound was louder this time, but it could only be heard for a moment before the boy's loud gasp. A choked sound made its way past his lips, and for a second Marco thought he would fall to the ground. He stumbled a little, but kept his balance, even though his whole body was shaking. He made a noise of pain, and Marco felt a twinge of sympathy before Nack turned his dial off.

"Jean!" he heard someone from the crowd call. The boy – Jean? – sank to his knees slowly, back to them, still cradling his sister against his chest. He was breathing heavily, shoulders twitching.

"Marco," Thomas called. "Your turn."

He looked at the person in front of him. He was nothing, Unenhanced filth. Marco could kill him and nobody would even care. But this was someone who was putting himself in harm's way to protect somebody he cared about. Marco hesitated.

And suddenly there was movement in the crowd; people being pushed aside as someone mowed their way through to the front. It was a boy, face pulled back into a snarl and a shock of dark hair on his head. "Enhanced scum!" he yelled, throwing something in their direction.

It was a brick. Marco had done a lot of training over the last few years, and it was easy to raise his right arm and block it. It bounced harmlessly off of his metal arm, breaking in two on impact.

Everything happened very quickly after that.

It was like that one kid had sparked a fire; suddenly the angry murmurs were angry yells, and the Unenhanced were picking up anything they could find and throwing it at them, shouting and cursing. Not all of the Unenhanced, of course; some of them were frantically fleeing the scene. Marco saw the boy from before stumble to his feet, helping his sister up before being lost in the crowd that was suddenly moving forward.

In an instant, Enhanced policemen were there, and the familiar humming of collars began again as they tried to regain control of the crowd. They were easily overpowered; Marco could see that this was futile. The policemen didn't even need their abilities, apart from their dials, and the Unenhanced were stumbling and falling one after the other under their gaze. Some didn't even bother with the dials; using enhanced speed and strength to take whoever got in their way down with force alone.

Still, the mob wasn't stopping. It was like an unstoppable wave of anger crashing into the policemen.

"Survey!" he heard someone yell.

"Come on," grunted the policeman, snapping Marco out of his trance. He had been frozen in place, just watching as the riot raged on and more Enhanced arrived to the scene. Seeing the policeman guide Thomas and Nack away from the danger, he quickly followed.

And then, the three he had spotted earlier were in front of them; the blonde woman and the two tall men. Up close, they didn't look that old at all – hardly older than Marco. "Annie," he heard one call, and the next thing he knew the blonde woman was launching herself at him, moving quicker than he would have thought possible for an Unenhanced girl.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Thomas and Nack stumble backwards as the policeman quickly engaged one of the men; Marco couldn't see much but almost immediately smelled burning flesh and knew he was using his enhanced abilities.

He barely registered it before the woman was on top of him, arm swinging in for a sharp punch. Marco _knew_ how to fight, and he raised his arm to block the punch. She was feigning though, and her foot slammed into the side of his knee, making it buckle.

He was partially in shock as he fell to one knee; shock that this was happening, shock over the fact that someone Unenhanced could fight like this. He could see her swinging her knee next, and he reached up to block it. She wrenched out of his grip, swinging a kick that connected with his ribs, but Marco would be damned if he would be beaten by an Unenhanced girl. He forced himself up, narrowly dodging an elbow to his nose (instead landing one on his cheek). He sent a clumsy hit out in her direction, but she was too quick.

For a second, he considered using his dial. His good eye focused on the girl, zooming in. A tiny green tick in his peripheral vision told him that he was good to go. His hand went to his dial…but he couldn't turn it.

The blonde reached out, grabbing for his face and Marco turned his head to avoid two fingers in his good eye.

Bad move.

With the turn of his head, she ended up hitting the other side of his face, dislodging the eye patch over his right eye.

"Shit-"

Marco grit his teeth through the hot pain as a blast of heat erupted from his eye. He shut his good one so he wouldn't be blinded, he knew from experience that a column of red was shining from his eye. A heat beam, it was called. An ability created for him alone, one that had failed so hilariously that Marco could barely control it, despite it being incredibly dangerous.

The beam landed on the brickwork of a building in front of him, shooting straight through it, causing brick and dust to collapse around it. He wondered for a brief moment if he had hit that girl. He fell onto his back, the beam swerving widely and blasting through more of the walls around him before he managed to shut his eye. His hand scrambled around in the dirt until he found the eye patch. He slipped it on before getting up, accepting a hand from Thomas and ignoring Nack's "dude that was awesome!"

Instead, he followed the policeman, who had since dealt with the other two (Marco could see them slumped on the ground, he wasn't sure if they were dead or alive-) and began to run.

He had been expecting a lot of trouble. In the end, the angry crowd had turned into a full blown riot, and it had taken a lot of the Military Police to get them under control. They had even managed to hurt several of them, which Marco didn't find as shocking as his classmates. The policemen had been painted as all but untouchable; but from what he had seen earlier he knew it wasn't true.

In the end, nearly two dozen of the Unenhanced had been killed during the Police's efforts to regain control. All of the students had been evacuated quickly, in case they got caught in the rioting. Any future trips to Terra for other students had been cancelled.

Marco was expecting to be in a lot of trouble for leaving the group. Maybe if he had insisted Thomas and Nack had stayed, it wouldn't have happened. But Thomas's father quickly admitted to having given his son and his friends permission to leave, and nobody was going to deny Corporal Wagner that right. In the end, the teacher had been more pissed off that three of her students hadn't been listening to her preaching.

In the end, the policemen had gained control of the Unenhanced and none of the students had come to any harm. "So really," Ilse had said, "there was no harm done. You just need to be more careful down there, Marco; you really shouldn't have left the group. It wasn't your fault though; I'm sure it still would have happened even if you weren't there."

Marco's mother had looked uncomfortable when she had heard, asking if he had done anything to the Unenhanced. She looked worried enough, and Marco didn't want to worry her further saying he had been close enough to one that he had to fight her off. When she asked, he just shook his head, and she looked relieved.

His father was a different matter.

He had called him into his office, had him sit across from him. "I'm not mad at you," he said, sinking into his chair and entwining his fingers. "At least, not for leaving the group when you knew it would be dangerous. You did it out of concern for your classmates. It was a brave thing to do, even if it was foolish."

Marco knew that his father had two modes: business mode, and father mode. When he was in his father mode, Marco could relax more around him. Conversation would be lighter; jokes would be made, smiles given freely. In business mode, he was as serious as a funeral. Right now, he was in business mode, and when he was in business mode, Marco knew not to speak unless asked a direct question. So he didn't respond.

"However…judging on what your classmates – Thomas and Nack, was it? – and the policeman had to say about your behavior…"

Marco frowned a little.

"They say you acted bravely, but hesitated to use your dial. Twice; once with that kid on the street, but more importantly when you were attacked. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Marco looked down at his hands. What could he say for himself? It was perfectly within his right to have used the dial, to shock some sense into those Unenhanced…but he hadn't. He didn't know why, he never would have thought he would have been one to hesitate, but when the time came to it, he just…couldn't.

"I asked you a question, Marco."

"I don't know. I don't know why I did it. I guess…knowing the theory is different to actually using it when they're right there in front of you."

His father sighed. "Marco, in a few years, you're meant to be taking my position as head of security. There's no room for hesitation in that job; not when there are lives on the line."

"I know."

"Do you? Even when it's something as small as using your dial on a single Unenhanced, it's a lesson you need to have learned."

"And I have learned, father. It won't happen again."

"You're right; it won't."

There was a knock on the door. "Come in," his father called. Marco resisted the urge to turn around and see who it was coming in through the door.

"I was told you wanted me, sir?"

Marco failed to resist the urge, turning when he recognized the familiar voice. "Violet?"

Violet was an Unenhanced maid in the house, one who had been there as long as Marco could remember. She had spent her time her mostly working for him; catering to his every need, practically raising him herself. But the collar around her neck always reminded them both of their relationship. Still; for an Unenhanced woman, she wasn't bad. Marco would never admit it, but he was quite fond of the maid.

She was near enough the same age as his father, though she looked older; years of wear and tear evident on her face. She always looked tired, no matter how many smiles she had for Marco. Now, as well as exhausted, she looked confused, and wary. No doubt she had heard about the riot that had happened earlier.

"When it comes to the Unenhanced, you can't have any attachments," his father's voice cut through the tension in the room. "It doesn't matter who they are – they're nothing, each and every one of them. They're vermin, vermin you have to be prepared to exterminate at all times. Understood?"

His mouth was dry as he nodded. "Yeah."

"Prove it to me. An Unenhanced person stands right in front of you. Give her a three."

Wide eyed, Marco looked from the maid to his father. She looked terrified, pale faced and confused, as if she was thinking about making a run for it. "Sir?" she asked.

"Do it, Marco."

"D-dad?" Marco looked at her, studied her face. Sure, she was Unenhanced, but she couldn't be all bad. She was around for as long as Marco could remember; she was the one who had dressed him and cleaned him and fed him as a child, she was the one who had tucked him into bed at night and bandaged up his knees whenever he grazed them.

She could try to run, but she wouldn't get very far. Marco doubted she would make it to the door, not with his father in the room. And even if she did, she wouldn't get much further, not with all of the Enhanced guards in the building.

"Why are you hesitating Marco?" his father's voice was ice cold. Marco didn't like him like this; not when all he was thinking about was the future and the role Marco would have to take on soon. He was desperately hoping for the kinder man he knew he was at heart to make an appearance. "You just told me that you wouldn't."

The palm that was flesh and blood was beginning to sweat. His slick, metal arm was beginning to hum a little bit; Marco could feel it beginning to whir. It always did when he was nervous. "She hasn't done anything wrong – those people earlier attacked us, she hasn't, she hasn't done _anything_-"

"That's where you're failing, Marco. She's Unenhanced. She doesn't need to have done anything. Vermin, that's all they are; kill one and there are fifty crawling to replace it. Besides, she's getting old; if I have to have vermin serving you I'd rather someone closer to your own age. Now, for the love of Sina, give her a three. _Don't_ make me say it again."

When his father was like this, he was really quite scary.

Marco's good eye shifted, zooming in slightly so it got a good picture on the maid. He heard the tiny click, saw the tiny green tick in the corner of his eye that told him the focus was on the terrified maid. He could already feel the hum of power slipping down internal circuits to his dial. Marco could hear his own heart thundering loudly in his ribcage. His father could probably hear it too, with his enhanced hearing.

He slowly gripped the dial with sweaty fingers. Keeping the focus on the maid, he stopped looking at her face, trying to get rid of some of the guilt already pooling in his stomach.

He turned the knob up to three.

The maid cried out, hands flying up to her collar. Her body twitched, tiny pained gasping noises escaping her. Was that his own blood Marco could hear in his ears?

His father gave a hum of approval, nodding as he leaned back in his chair. "Very good."

Marco wanted to look away, but he couldn't. If he turned, his focus wouldn't be locked on her, and it would be broken. His father hadn't given him permission to turn his dial off yet. And even if it wasn't for that, he doubted that he would be able to tear his eyes away.

"Turn it up to five, Marco."

Marco finally looked away, turning to his father as the maid gasped in relief. "What?"

"You heard me." His father's eyes were the same shade of brown as his own, but they seem much colder. Marco slowly turned around, giving an apologetic look to the maid as he locks his focus on her again, turning the dial up to five.

She screamed this time, back arching for a moment before she fell to her knees, clawing at her neck. With his high quality vision, Marco could clearly see the tears squeezing from underneath her eyes. She kept crying out, a mixture of short yelps and crying and gasping. Marco felt like his stomach was being twisted into a knot.

_It doesn't matter_, he told himself. _She's just Unenhanced. It's not wrong for me to do this_.

He wondered why he was feeling bad – he knew what she was, he knew that there was nothing wrong with what he was doing, but why did he feel so bad about it?

_It's just because you don't see the point,_ he told himself. _There's nothing wrong with this, but there's no reason behind it. It's alright; she's only an Unenhanced maid._

"Good. You're learning." From behind him, Marco could hear his father stand up. "Now. Ten."

He could have sworn his heart stopped for a moment. "Ten?"

Ten was the highest on the dial – a ten would kill her almost instantly.

"Ten." His father rested a hand on his shoulder. "Prove to me that you have what it takes, Marco. If you want to even dream about taking over from me or serving the King, you need to be able to exterminate this vermin."

The maid broke her silence. "Please," she rasped, breathing heavily as she looked up at them. Her eyes were filled with tears. "Master B-bodt, I've served you loyally for years, have mercy, _please_."

"Marco."

Marco had never killed anyone before. He knew she was only an Unenhanced woman, but somewhere in the back of his mind, his conscience was yelling at him, telling him that this was _wrong_.

What could he do, though? If he didn't do it, his father would finish the job anyway. He knew he was being overemotional about a simple Unenhanced woman, but couldn't help his dread. His hand was trembling as he switched his dial to ten.

For a split second, she screamed. It was cut short as her body slumped forward, landing with a thud on the carpet. Marco finally closed his eye.

Jean shoved the door of the apartment open with his shoulder, his other arm wrapped around the waist of his sister. "Fucking Enhanced," he growled under his breath.

Eren and Mikasa were behind them. "Be gentle," Mikasa chided, taking his sister's arm. Odette had always looked sickly - she had a sort of frail, delicate beauty, but she always looked like a gust of wind could snap her in half. And now, she looked as if she might collapse. She leaned into Mikasa's hold, barely able to stand.

Jean felt as if he was on fire - he was furious. Absolutely raging - they hadn't been doing anything to aggravate those boys. His gaze caught the dark collar around Odette throat as he opened the door. It was so fucked up; those kids were the same age as he was; a few years, give or take, older than her. Yet they had so much power over them; they had been bored so they attacked. Jean had _told_ them, told them that she was sick - but that didn't make them show any mercy.

They had been on a _five._ And rising. They had given Jean a seven. If it hadn't been for the riot – no. He didn't want to think about what might have happened. If he hadn't been there, Odette would be…

_Shut up, Jean._

She was even paler than usual. With her health, she couldn't easily take an attack like that. Jean was still weak kneed and unbalanced from that seven he had received, but at least he was able to stand. Odette couldn't.

One of the scariest things was that those officers, members of the Military Police - grown men - had done nothing. No, that was a lie. They _had_ done something - they had _laughed._ They would have let those three rich boys kill him and his little sister. Jean suspected that any day, some rich Enhanced man could massacre as many Unenhanced as they wanted to, and nobody above would protest.

Jean opened his arms, and she gladly fell into them. Scooping her up into his arms, he gently walked into the dingy two-roomed apartment, laying her down gently on the couch.

"You should get some rest," he murmured, kneeling down beside her. She was fifteen years old, yet she wasn't much heavier than an eight year old.

She gave him a frail smile. "You should get some too," she said.

"I will," Jean said, gently stroking her cheek.

"That's what you always say," Odette mumbled, but she closed her eyes anyway. "What happened to all of your old honesty?"

Jean scoffed. "Can't survive in this town without lying."

She laughed a little at that. "True," she said. She was just as cynical as he was, even if she wasn't as strong.

Within five minutes, she was sleeping, her chest rising and falling. When she was asleep, she actually looked her age. Despite being sick for most of her life, she was a tough one. Like Jean. There was a hardness to her features, despite looking so delicate. Jean was so proud of her. She was stronger than he would ever be.

Odette was so like their mother; from her appearance to her manner. She had definitely inherited some of her traits from her; her quick tongue, her low tolerance for bullshit, her blunt manner. The two biggest differences they had was Odette's lack of patience and cynicism, which Jean suspected she had gotten from growing up with him.

She got frustrated rather easily; sometimes at him, but more often at herself and her inability to do certain things because of her illness. And hell, she was even more of a cynic than he was; no matter what happened, she doubted she would live very long. No matter how many times Jean had told her to shut up, because she'd be fine, she would never believe him. She only ever rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath about how it was obvious.

Now, Jean wasn't very hopeful by nature, but his sister was the one person he would never give up on.

He stood up, turning to where Eren and Mikasa stood. "Jean," Eren began, but Jean cut him off with a gesture to follow him into the kitchen.

The apartment was on the second floor of the building. It had two rooms; a tiny living room and a tinier kitchen. Odette slept on the couch, Jean on the hard floor. It had wooden floors partially rotted in some places, a cockroach problem, and the pipes leaked. Jean was grateful for it; so many people were worse off.

When the three of them congregated in the kitchen, he closed the door softly behind him before looking at Eren.

He wasted no time in starting. "You see, Jean? These mindless acts of violence? They were going to kill her. And you. For no reason except that they were bored."

Jean clenched his fists. "You think I don't fucking know that?"

"This is why the Unenhanced need Survey!" he said. They were both talking in hushed tones so as to not wake Odette, but there was enough emotion in Eren's voice to make up for the lack of volume.

He and Eren went way back. He didn't know him as long as Eren had known Mikasa, but he had known him long before either of them had begun to dabble with Survey. At first they hadn't really gotten along well; they were too similar and different at the same time. They both had strong personalities, while their beliefs clashed; Jean's gloomy, pessimistic outlook didn't click well with Eren's forever hopeful beliefs. But petty fights ended quickly after they had been chased by Enhanced guards one day, when they realized they were really on the same side.

Eren and Mikasa had helped him look after Odette, especially when she was going downhill. They had been there for them when his mother disappeared. And Eren's nature had begun to rub off a little on Jean; he became…not hopeful, exactly but _driven_.

The three of them had ended up mixing with Survey, the small resistance in Terra. They hadn't been in very far, but they had helped out on some of their missions. Jean had been naïve; it was only a few months ago, but he had actually thought that they might have been able to change the system. Of course, then Odette's health had taken another turn for the worse, and he left to care for her.

He didn't know if Eren had ever quite forgiven him for leaving (he had been trying to convince him to come back since), but if he hadn't started that ruckus earlier, they would both be dead.

Jean owed him his life, so he tried not to get angry. "Listen, Eren…I know you believe in Survey, I just…can't follow it. It's practically suicide. I mean, there's only so long it can keep going before the Military Police come down on it, and when they do? Every known associate will be executed, and you know it. Besides, we don't even know who the leader is, how do you know we could trust him? For all we know, it could be a trap."

Mikasa frowned. "How could it be a trap?"

"I don't know, an elaborate trap run by the Military to attract rebels so they can then get rid of them?" He didn't quite believe that was the case, but the fact was that nobody apart from the inner circle of Survey knew much about its mysterious leader.

Eren rolled his eyes. "The only reason we don't know yet, is because we haven't been initiated into the main part of it yet," he said. "It's clear everyone else in Survey trusts him, we can do the same."

Jean sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "Look – whatever. The fact is, is that Odette's getting worse and worse each day. We were at the doctor's earlier, and that alone pretty much cost the rest of our money. And the new medication she needs; it's expensive. Getting a fucking collar shock from those Enhanced scumbags earlier wasn't exactly good for her either."

He felt so tired suddenly. He just wanted to curl up on the floor and sleep his worries away. Jean knew, though, that they never really went away, not even when he was asleep.

"What's your plan?" Mikasa asked, leaning against the wall with her arms folded. "I mean, you're going to have to find a way to pay for this medication, unless-"

"I'm done with stealing," Jean replied, "if I can avoid it. I'm going to apply for a job, above."

Eren looked livid. "So instead of fighting against them like you _know_ you should, you're gonna go up and fucking serve them?"

Jean met his gaze. "If it's for Odette, yeah."

Nobody said anything for a moment. Jean refused to break eye contact. Eventually Mikasa broke the silence. "I'd do the same, in your position," she said quietly, before putting a hand on Eren's shoulder.

Eren looked away.

"Let's go."

Jean was nervous as he walked into the pod. It had barely been two days since the riot, but one of the rich families in Caelum had opened up a job offer in their household staff. According to the rumors, a maid had been murdered by the teenage son. That alone was enough to put most people off.

In general, those who worked for the Enhanced weren't well loved down in Terra. They were seen as a type of traitor down below. All of the Unenhanced despised the Enhanced, and the fact that someone would willingly work for them…most of the Unenhanced staff were treated badly in Terra because of that.

Jean had worked a similar job before, and had faced the consequences for it. He was pretty damn certain he still had the scars from the last time someone had vented their displeasure at it out on him. Everyone hated the Enhanced, but Jean could name a few of the Unenhanced he also hated.

Still, his mother had done this all her life to provide for him and Odette. If she could do it, so could he. He was still nervous though; the previous incident with the Enhanced had made him all too aware of the cruelty of the Enhanced.

He wondered if the teenage murderer he would (hopefully) be working for had been one of those boys who used their dials on him and Odette.

The good thing was that although he had stolen in the past, and although he had done some missions for Survey, he had never been caught. Because of that, his name was still clean up in their files, which meant he still had the chance to get a job.

Working as household staff for an Enhanced family wasn't easy, though; depending on the family, you could be collar shocked for tiny things. You were expected to carry out all duties flawlessly for eighteen hours a day, six days a week, and ten hours on the seventh day. Physical punishment was also common; the thought of it made the scars on Jean's back tingle a little. His past employer, Nile Dawk, certainly had been liberal with a whip.

If you weren't up to what your employer's standard was, you could easily be denied your wage. Wages were tiny enough anyway; barely enough to make ends meet in the first place. And of course, like the supposed maid who had been killed; you were in constant danger from the Enhanced. Guards could beat you for fun, nobody would care. Guards could use your collar for fun, they wouldn't be stopped. Teenage boys could kill the staff if they wanted, and they wouldn't even be scolded. And after putting up with all of that, you'd come home to an Unenhanced community where everyone hated you for working with the enemy.

It was enough to make Jean want to turn around.

_For Odette_, he thought.

He let the guards at the gravity pod check his papers. Anyone Unenhanced had to have the right papers before travelling up. These ones had been issued to him after he had applied for the job. Jean knew they were in order, but he was still jittery and nervous as they scanned them. He was half expecting them to somehow know that he had been in Survey and arrest him (or worse, give him a ten there and then) and half expecting them to recognize him as the kid who was involved in the riot two days ago, but nothing happened. They shoved the papers back at him and searched him for any weapons he might have on him, before shoving him into the pod.

Jean hated the pods.

In fact, he hated Caelum. While working for Nile Dawk, he had been working in one of the highest buildings in the city, and he had hated it. As a child, Jean had dreamed of owning a big house in the sky. Of course, he was Unenhanced, and those naïve dreams were quickly crushed. Still; the first time he had gone to Caelum, he hadn't been able to suppress the tiny excited feeling in his stomach; after all, he had been going up to Caelum, the city in the clouds, literal heaven on earth.

He had hated it the moment the pod started moving. Jean had been terrified up there; all he could think of was the long, fatal drop. He had found out pretty quickly that he was not very good with heights. He still wasn't, and as the pod rushed upwards he felt his knees shake and hands tremble.

Jean thought he might get sick, but he squeezed his eyes shut, and the pod juddered to a halt.

Of course, for just an interview he wouldn't be going all of the way up.

There was an area of the Admin buildings, in a sort of no man's land between Caelum and Terra where meetings between the Enhanced and Unenhanced took place. This level in all of the buildings was reserved for storehouses and military barracks; far too low for the Enhanced to live, far too high for the Unenhanced to live. This was where job interviews tended to take place; the Enhanced only wanted as many Unenhanced in Caelum as was absolutely necessary.

Showing his papers again to the guards here, and after being searched again, he was escorted to a room.

Two guards were outside of the door, and four more stood inside the room. With the two guards escorting him practically breathing down his neck, Jean was brought to sit down into a chair. In front of him was a table, behind it another empty chair. The two escorting him left, leaving him alone with the other four.

The events of two days ago began to play in his head, and Jean couldn't help but grow nervous under their gazes. Any one of them could lash out at him right now. They could kill him and get away completely free, having caused nothing but a minor inconvenience.

The nerves didn't go away when the door opened and a man and a woman entered. The man was Enhanced, a tall man with broad shoulders, dark skin and hair, and freckles peppering his skin. The woman, Jean was surprised to note, was Unenhanced. She wore the standard black and white uniform all Unenhanced staff wore. Strawberry blonde hair fell to her shoulders, and despite her prettiness her eyes were hard. Neither were people to be messed with.

Wordlessly, the man sat in the chair opposite Jean while the woman stood behind him at a respectful distance.

"Let's be frank, and cut to the chase," the man said. "Most people like me would not go to the trouble to interview their own staff, but I'm not like most people. I'm a very busy man, and I hate wasting time, but I want to know what Unenhanced people are going to be serving my family. My name is Jeremiah Bodt and I will tolerate absolutely no nonsense – understand?"

Jean swallowed and nodded. His mouth was dry and his palms were sweaty, and it felt like there were snakes in his stomach.

"Good. Show me your papers."

This Jeremiah Bodt was obviously a leader of some sort; he demanded respect from everyone, and from the way he walked into the room, from his commanding tone of voice and body language, it was clear he was used to giving orders and being in charge. It was also clear that what he said was true; he would tolerate no bullshit.

If Jean was intimidated before, he was terrified now. Still, he handed over his papers.

It was unusual, true enough, for someone like him to interview his own staff. "Age?" he barked.

"Seventeen, sir."

"Hm. One of the reasons I'm the one sitting across from you is I'm looking for someone specific. The opening we have is serving my son, and I want a boy close to his own age serving him."

Jean said nothing – Mr. Bodt hadn't said anything that would need a reaction from him. The nerves twisted more fiercely – if he was hired, he'd be working for the son, the one that had killed the other maid.

"Says here that you worked for Nile Dawk for two years when you were younger. Why did you leave? Were you fired?"

"No, sir. I left."

"Why?"

_To join Survey_. "To care for my sister. She's ill. _Sir_."

"Family history?"

"My mother worked as a maid for Nile Dawk for many years before I did. I never knew my father, he left when I was young."

"Does your mother still work for him? Is your father dead?"

"No. I don't know about my father."

"Where's your mother now?"

"She disappeared a few years ago. I haven't spoken to her since."

"Hm. Petra?" he asked, turning in his seat to address the blonde. "Have you looked into the Archive's file on him?"

"Yes, sir. His name is Jean Kirschtein, and everything he has said is in accordance with his file. His mother worked for Mr. Dawk for nearly twenty years. She disappeared three years ago, on her way back to Terra. The disappearance wasn't looked into. The file didn't mention his father at all. Only surviving known family at the moment is a younger sister, she's quite sickly. And there's a report about him from Mr. Dawk's head of staff."

Jeremiah Bodt was silent for a few minutes, deep in thought.

"Listen, Kirschtein. I'm a busy man, and I don't have the time to interview every goddamned teenager from Terra. So far, you're the only one the right age who has applied for the job that seems anyway reliable. If you survived at Dawk's for as long as you did, you must be. You're not hired yet, but we'll have you work with us for a two week trial, to see if you're suitable. If you're still with us, we'll hire you. Any objections?"

"No, sir."

"Didn't think you would."

Mr. Bodt addressed one of the guards. "I have a meeting in an hour. Prepare a hovercar to bring me to the Royal Palace. Escort Ral and Kirschtein back to my home."

"Remember, only speak when spoken to. Make sure to stay a respectable distance away at all times; one and a half meters away, at least. Of course, an exception is when your duty calls to come closer; for example, if you're helping to service the young master's arm, or if you're bringing something to him. Keep your head bowed; it's a sign of respect and humility, and it tells them we know our place. They like that; they like to feel secure in that way. Always call them _sir_ or _madam_ – you'll be working mostly around the young master, so you don't need to worry about the madam part too much. You'll sleep in the servant's dorms – it's on the same level as the break room where we just were, and you need to wear the communicator device at all times. If the young master requires your services, he'll use it to contact you. It's fitted into your collar and believe me, when it's rung, you'll know. No matter what you're doing, you must go to him immediately. Breakfast is served at 8am sharp, dinner at 8pm. If you miss a meal, you go hungry. Stealing isn't tolerated under any circumstances. Now, to go over the names again, the master of the house is Jeremiah Bodt, his wife is Elena. His younger sister, Ilse is often around too, as well as her daughter Ymir and of course, the young master Marco. This corridor leads to…"

Jean tuned her out, focusing on picking up his surroundings. After a horrible journey from the Admin buildings to the house, he had been stunned at the sheer size of it. It seemed unbelievable that only one family and their servants lived here. He had been given a brief tour of the servants' quarters by Petra Ral, the head of staff in the household, before being given his new uniform.

One of the things he hadn't missed was the uniforms. Stiff black trousers, uncomfortable black shoes and light white shirts with low shirt collars – so their metal collars could be seen more clearly. Then there were the tags; two tags on slim chains, one around his neck and one on his wrist, used to identify himself. The other new addition was the little communication device set into his collar. Jean hated it all already; just being in the uniform was bringing back painful memories.

"Oi. Kirschtein. Are you even listening to me?"

Petra clicked her fingers in front of his face. Petra Ral was the head of staff in the Bodt household, and although she was much smaller than him, she was intimidating in her own way. Although not as terrifying as Mr. Bodt, she definitely had a no-nonsense aura around her.

"Y-yes, of course, Ms. Ral."

She sighed. "Listen kid, I read your file. The head of staff over at Dawk's wrote about you on it."

"Really? What did he say?"

"He said that you're a smart-ass to those around you that aren't Enhanced. He also said you walk a very fine line; never straying enough to lose your job, but straying enough to become familiar with Nile Dawk's whip."

Jean winced, turning his head away slightly. He could practically hear the crack of the whip. "That was a while ago, though; I'm not as bad anymore."

"You better not be. In Dawk's you were just general staff, here you've a much more specific role. Marco Bodt is eighteen, nearly finished school, and will be the head of security in a few years' time. He's one of the brightest kids his age."

"He's the one that killed his old maid, yeah?"

Petra didn't miss a beat, but her expression hardened slightly. "Shut your mouth kid. You'll need to watch your tongue around him."

"Sorry." He really wasn't very sorry.

"All the time you're here, you have to make yourself available to him if he needs you. You'll accompany him everywhere – apart from school. If he explicitly tells you to leave him alone, you come to me, understand?"

"Understood. But why? Did his last maid follow him around the whole time?"

Petra ran a hand through her short hair. "Listen…that's another reason your job is so specific. Mr. Bodt wants you to keep an eye on his behavior, and he's going to check up on you every so often to see how he's getting along."

Jean frowned. This wasn't exactly what he had thought would come with the job description. "So I'm spying on him?"

"No! You're just…keeping an eye out for unusual behavior. Anyway, you tend to anything he needs. He tells you to do something, you do it. You stay with him all day Monday through Saturday, minus school hours. On Sundays, you stay with him til 5 pm, and then you're free until 6am on Monday morning."

"Basically I'm his personal slave during those hours."

"Exactly! You _are_ a quick learner. While he's at school, there's a list of chores you need to do; cleaning his living areas, mostly. And when you're finished those, you find me and help out with the more general tasks. When he comes home, you meet him at the door, and you barely leave his side until it's time for bed. And so the cycle repeats itself."

"Sounds thrilling."

"We get paid for this, Kirschtein. It doesn't have to be thrilling."

That was true. Jean just nodded. "When do I start?"

"You seem ready. Now."

"Now?"

"Now. You have the tiny map I gave you? His bedroom is marked on it. I went through basic rules, and I'm sure you had them drilled into you at Dawk's anyway."

Jean grunted. "I'll say."

Petra gave him a pat on the back. "Off with you, then. Introduce yourself to him, then shut up and do as he says. Remember, only speak when asked a question, and be polite! Any problems and you come to be. Believe what you will, but I'm on _your_ side."

Jean gave her a small smile. Crazily enough, Petra reminded him of his mother. He thought of Odette, down in Terra. He had already arranged it with Mikasa that she would look after her when she could if Jean got the job. Even though he knew she was in good hands, the thought of his sister made his stomach clench in worry.

Jean didn't like working for the Enhanced – he hated it. He hated being up in Caelum, he hated being up in the sky, he hated the master of the house already. But hell, he would put up with it if it would pay for his sister's medication. A new determination burned in his stomach.

"Oh, and Jean," Petra caught his attention again.

She glanced to make sure they were alone before lowering her voice. "Watch out, okay? Marco Bodt…despite what you may have heard about him, he's a good kid. He really is."

Jean seriously doubted that, especially if he had killed someone – Unenhanced, or not – for no apparent reason.

Petra continued. "Compared to the rest of the Enhanced, he treats us well enough. I don't know what happened the other day with his maid, though. But listen; no matter how friendly, or nice he is to you, you need to remember that he's Enhanced. He's not like you or me; in a few years he'll be the one persecuting people like us. Be wary of him. Nothing good can come from being friends with him, so promise me you'll keep your guard up?"

Petra's warning made him even more uneasy. Jean was beginning to doubt his decision to come up here, but a job was a job. Besides, he wasn't going to go and be pally with some Enhanced bastard. "I promise. Seriously – you don't have to worry about me becoming friends with an Enhanced person."

Petra gave him a smile, and when she smiled her whole face lit up and became softer. She looked younger for a moment. "You seem like a good kid, Kirschtein. See you around."

Jean knocked on the polished oak door three times, and took a deep breath, painfully aware of the collar around his throat when he breathed.

"Who is it?" The voice that came from within was warm and friendly.

Jean stood up straight, clasping his hands behind his back. Watch your tongue, he thought to himself. "I'm your new servant, sir," he said, speaking clearly and trying to keep his voice even.

"Oh – I didn't think you'd be here this quick. Come in."

This was it.

Who knew what the person beyond the door would be like? Jean took a deep breath before opening it.

The bedroom was huge; Jean could have fit his apartment in here comfortably four times. It was a beautiful room, decorated tastefully. A huge window took over much of one of the walls, flooding the room with natural light. The carpet under his feet was springy and soft, and as well as the large bed in the center of the room, there was a lot of other furniture; a desk, table and chairs, sofas and bookshelves. There was even a balcony opening out from the window. Someone could probably live completely in here, Jean thought.

And then, he saw him; Marco Bodt. He stood up from where he had been sitting on one of the sofas, and Jean's heart froze. Same dark hair and dark skin, same freckles dotting across his skin, same sleek metal arm, same eye patch covering one eye, same tall frame.

He had been one of the assholes who had shocked him and Odette.

"You," Marco breathed. "You're the one from before!"

Jean opened his mouth, but bit his tongue before he began to yell. Behind his back, his hands were clenching into fists. Just his fucking luck, of all the bratty Enhanced teenage boys he had to serve, it had to be this one.

He shut his mouth and clenched his jaw, looking down in what he hoped looked like a somewhat respectful stance.

Marco stood awkwardly, not quite sure what to say. "What's your name?" he asked. He was still shaken after the incident with the old maid. No matter what he told himself…he had killed her, and he wasn't comfortable with that fact. He hoped the same thing wouldn't happen with his new servant, and now, out of all people to stand before him, it was the kid whose sister Thomas and Nack had picked on.

_He probably hates me_, Marco thought.

"Jean," Jean replied quietly, not letting his eyes rise from the floor. His nails were digging into his palms, and he forced himself to stop. It wouldn't do to get blood on this fluffy white blanket.

What Marco said next surprised him.

"How is that girl?" he asked, voice…not quite timid, but cautious, as if he knew he was approaching a sticky area. "Was she your sister?"

Jean almost retorted with a "_why do you care_" but stopped himself at the last minute. It was strange, because he seemed almost genuine. Now that he thought of it, this was the one who had hesitated, right? He had hesitated before shocking Jean, even when his friends had encouraged him. "Yes, she's my sister." He didn't want to speak about Odette, not in front of this guy. "Sir," he added.

"Is she alright?"

Damn, he was persistent.

"No."

It was rude perhaps, too rude considering he had been on the job five minutes. The brief look of concern that splashed across Marco's freckled face was…confusing, to say the least. Why would he even care? He hadn't done anything to stop his friends from attacking them in the streets for no reason; he had murdered one of the Unenhanced, one of Jean's people for no reason.

"I'm sorry about what happened," he said. "My friends are…a bit wild." He laughed, and it was a nice sound, but it was not a laughing matter, and Jean was seriously tempted to lunge across the room and attempt to gouge his good eye out.

"Anyway," Marco continued. Although he wasn't intimidating like his father, he definitely held a somewhat similar presence. When he said something, he was expecting it to be done. "There are a few things I need you to do, okay? First of all, you can take the laundry basket downstairs and…"

Once again, Jean tuned out slightly.

All he could think about was his own bad luck; he had been unlucky enough to have to serve this asshole. And the worst thing was that he wasn't an outright asshole in the first place.

He suppressed a sigh, feigned attention, and silently got to work. There were quite a few things he would have loved to say to this Marco Bodt, but for once in his life, he held his tongue.

It was going to be a long day.


	3. Chapter 3

"Unlimited power in the hands of limited people always leads to cruelty."

-David Mitchell

* * *

The alarm bells rang shrilly at 6am, piercing through the silence of the dorms. Jean blinked a few times before sitting up. He sat up too soon, and whacked his head off of the ceiling.

The dorms were almost identical to the sleeping quarters they'd had when he worked for Nile Dawk; a single large room, stuffed with narrow bunk beds, and a curtain to separate the men from the women.

Jean was on the third bunk. He had forgotten how close he was to the damn ceiling.

Cursing, he ran his hand through his hair before sliding off the top bunk and onto the floor. He got dressed quickly, and washed quickly too. Because he was one of the personal servants to the direct family members, he had to be ready very quickly. It had its advantages; mainly getting the priority to the washrooms over those who weren't needed immediately.

By six fifteen, he was standing outside Marco Bodt's room. Petra's instructions ran through his head; wake him up, open the curtains, tell the kitchen maid's what he wants for breakfast, bring it up to him, do anything else he asks.

He slid into the room, which was still dark. There were heavy red curtains drawn across the huge windows, which completely blocked out all of the light. He crept over to the bed, where Marco lay on his stomach, sleeping peacefully.

Jean scowled at him.

He reached out, gently shaking his non-metal shoulder. "Sir," he called. _Dickhead_. "Sir, it's time to wake up." Jean sighed, shaking his shoulder more insistently while Marco mumbled something in his sleep. "For fuck's sake – wake up!"

Slowly, his one visible eye opened, blinking slowly. Marco stifled a yawn, slowly sitting up in the bed. Jean backed away. The older stretched upwards, before looking blearily at Jean. "Oh. Good morning," he greeted with a sleepy half-smile.

Jean couldn't stop looking at his bare chest; more specifically, the place where the metal ran into smooth skin. It was strange, almost scary. There was no scarring or puckering of the flesh whatsoever; it looked completely natural, as if he was born with a metal arm, but he wasn't. He had been made this way. It was as creepy as hell.

"Good morning, uh, sir," Jean said, in his best "polite" voice. He went over to the largest window, pulling open the curtains and mumbling a curse. The room faced east, so at this time of the morning the sun was rising. It temporarily blinded him, especially after the darkness of the room, but after a moment, he was able to look outside properly.

Jean didn't like Caelum very much, but this was…amazing, really. The sun was just beginning to peek through the buildings, its rays streaked through the skyscrapers and reflecting off the glass, painting the city like pink and orange war paint. It really was something else. Jean muttered a curse under his breath; living in Terra, you didn't see many sunrises.

Marco's eyes didn't need adjusting to the sudden change in light. Jean suddenly remembered his presence, and his job. "Oh, uh…what d'you want for breakfast?" It wasn't a good way to ask it; he could have been twenty times politer, but Marco didn't seem to notice or care.

"Just tell the maids some fruit and bread will do nicely. Oh, and a pot of coffee. They know how I like it."

Jean nodded, rolling his eyes when he turned his back. He left the bedroom once more, quickly headed for the kitchens. Ten minutes later, he was back in Marco's room, this time with a tray filled high. Marco had only asked for fruit and bread, yet this tray of food had food better than anything Jean had ever eaten. Freshly baked bread, still warm from the ovens, a large bowl piled high with different fruit – some of which Jean didn't even know the name of – and a steaming pot of coffee. This meal alone more than Jean ate in a day.

Really, with a class divide like this, how could the Unenhanced not resent the Enhanced?

He nudged the door open with his shoulder, crossing into the room. Marco was wrapped in a dressing gown, sitting down at the table facing his window, flicking through the pages of one of his school textbooks. Jean placed the tray in front of him. He glanced at the book, but could barely understand half of the words in it.

"Thanks. Oh – and I think I'll have a bath this morning. Run one for me please – not too hot, but warm. After that could you pick up my laundry from downstairs?"

Marco's bathroom was roughly about the same size as Jean's apartment. He couldn't help but feel envious, running the water in a bath twice the size of his shitty-ass couch. He left soon enough, taking Marco's breakfast tray away (he noticed, barely half of it was eaten. Lucky bastard).

When he gave it to the kitchen staff, he was horrified to see the remaining food thrown down the rubbish chute. "What – why?" he questioned the maid. She gave a shrug, looking at the chute in discontent. "The Enhanced only eat the freshest food," she said. "Nobody would eat leftovers; once he left it behind, it was rubbish. And the Unenhanced aren't allowed eat Enhanced food, not even the leftovers."

Jean was growing more and more frustrated.

Maybe because he was younger, but when he worked for Nile Dawk he hadn't noticed as much. Sure, Dawk was probably wealthier than the Bodts', but he hadn't noticed how wasteful the Enhanced were, he hadn't noticed how much they took for granted.

He was Marco's personal caretaker until seven thirty, until he went to school. Breakfast was at eight, a small bowl of unappetizing gruel which he shoveled down before getting to work. The bedroom wasn't even that dirty, but Jean ended up cleaning it from top to bottom, before going back to Petra. Petra easily gave him a list of jobs to occupy himself with, and he didn't have a moment to spare until Marco came home.

Marco was the type of guy who kept to a pretty regular routine. He would come home, send Jean to the kitchens to get him something to eat, and then begin his studies. Occasionally his cousin – Ymir, or something? Jean was bad with names – would come in, and they would talk and mess around. He usually ate dinner alone in his bedroom, but occasionally there would be a family dinner in the posh dining room. He sometimes went out in the evenings, to various friends' houses, or his friends would come over. On weekends, he had training. Either way, Jean would have to follow him around. In fact, from the moment he came home from school, Jean had to stick by his side until he went to sleep.

It was boring and repetitive but…manageable.

It was much better than working for Nile Dawk, in any case.

Marco was nicer than most Enhanced were, without being _too_ nice. Jean doubted he had a foul bone in his body, he doubted he could hate the Unenhanced like his father. He was always courteous enough – greeted Jean, said please and thanks, and phrased his orders like he was asking Jean to do something, rather than telling him to.

Still, he couldn't help but remember the fact that he had killed the Unenhanced woman who once had Jean's position.

* * *

Marco had given up on studying, and was sprawled over his desk, on top of his books. "I'm bored," he muttered, slowly sitting up. He poked reluctantly at a textbook with a metal finger. "Have you ever studied physics, Jean?"

"No, sir." Jean gritted his teeth. Who did he think he was? Unenhanced education wasn't exactly great.

"Lucky. It's such a pain in the ass. And you can drop the "sir" – it's weird. You're like, my age, you shouldn't be calling me _sir_." Marco made a face.

Jean did his best not to glare. Was he seriously bemoaning the fact that, Sina forbid, he got an education? Privileged asshole. "I don't think that would be very appropriate, sir."

Marco gave a sigh, rubbing his hand over his face. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. You're right." He was silent for a moment, but seemed to pick up on the bad vibes radiating from Jean. "That was probably a dumb comment, right? I've heard education in Terra isn't as good as it is up here."

Jean couldn't help it – he snorted. Marco looked at him, an eyebrow raised.

"Uhh," Jean began. "You're right. Sir. Education in Terra is…rare. Practically nonexistent."

Marco's brow furrowed. "What? I mean, you're younger than me, technically you should still be in school."

Jean gave a small shrug. "I never went."

The thought seemed to mystify Marco. "What? You never went to school?"

"There aren't really…schools in Terra, sir. I mean, there are a few people who will try to teach, but…" _they're taken away by the Enhanced, can't have us getting too smart._ "It doesn't really last long."

"So you've no education?"

"Well…I wouldn't say that, exactly, sir. My mother taught me, see. Not a whole lot, but I can read okay and write alright and do a little math, too."

Marco frowned, leaning back in his chair. "I never knew there were no schools in Terra, though," he said, more to himself than to Jean. "This is something we should know, right? Like, I always presumed you still had schools and stuff, just not as good as up here."

Jean said nothing, afraid he would say something awful back. _Sorry, bro, but we're not like up here. You can prance around with your stupid physics and philosophy and history but not everyone has that, not everyone has that right._

Marco looked thoughtful. Jean's gaze fell onto his books. Marco was the son of the head of security, right? He would surely be taking over his position shortly after he left school. Then why did he need to spend so much time studying?

Jean should shut up. He should let the conversation die, and resume his role as a (somewhat) respectful servant. But his curiosity got the better of him; Jean had never been good at obeying the rules. "If you don't mind me asking, sir…" he began. Marco looked at him again, and he could see his good eye widen in surprise. "If you're going to take over from your father, why do you need to do all of this…studying?"

Marco gave him a small smile. "Exams. And I mean – they're not that important but…basically I'm not guaranteed my father's position. It's overwhelmingly likely, but not definite. And if I do terribly in these exams…I mean, the people aren't going to want someone completely incompetent taking over as the head of security. It's a safety net, I suppose."

Jean just gave a nod. It was so strange – Marco had spent his life going to school, and learning. He never had to work as a child, to try and make sure his family had enough to eat. Jean doubted he had ever been in a dangerous situation in his life, before the riot, at least. He would probably throw up at the thought of a revolution. His biggest worry was probably these dumb exams that he didn't really need to pass so he could start working for his father. He didn't need to worry about random acts of cruelty, or how to care for a sick sibling.

Jean was ridiculously envious.

* * *

It was…slow.

Incredibly slow.

But Jean's opinion of Marco slowly began to change.

Every Enhanced person Jean had ever met in his life had treated him like scum. They had treated him like he was something under their shoe, only fit to be stepped on. And the truth was, that if you were told you were scum often enough, a part of you began to believe it.

Even here, in this household; if he ran into any of the other Enhanced here, they treated him the exact same way. From Marco's friends to his family; they all avoided looking at him, and when they occasionally did, they gave him the _look_. The _look_ was something it seemed all Enhanced had mastered; a way of looking coldly, suspiciously at the Unenhanced. Even if it was only a glance they gave him, it never failed to remind Jean of his place.

Marco…wasn't really like that.

He wasn't exactly…good. There were some Enhanced that didn't hate the Unenhanced as much as most, who actually tried to campaign for their rights. Marco was far from being like that. And, he had done some pretty inexcusable things. He had stood by while his friends had picked on Odette. He had let his friends take advantage of a sick girl, let them torture her for their amusement. And he had murdered an Unenhanced woman, for no apparent reason. Jean didn't think he would ever be able to forgive anyone for that.

But he was…pleasant to deal with. Far kinder than Nile Dawk, anyway. All in all, serving Marco Bodt wasn't that bad – Jean reckoned it would have been worse with most other people his age, and for that he was thankful.

Marco wasn't even that strict with him. Yes, he had expectations, yes he had things he needed done and fully expected Jean to carry out those tasks, but he didn't have a stick up his ass, like most of them did. If Jean forgot a "sir," or if he forgot his place momentarily and made a smart comment, he wouldn't be punished. Rather, if he made a comment on something, even if it was at Marco's expense, he seemed to laugh rather than be pissed off. In general, although he still watched his tongue and behavior, Jean was a lot more relaxed than he had expected to be.

Were most Enhanced like this? Jean sincerely doubted it. After all; on his first day working for Nile Dawk he had forgotten to call him "sir," once. He had been whipped for a tiny slip up. Still had the scars crisscrossing on his back. Jean grimaced at the thought.

Another thing about Marco was that he had this…curiosity. Maybe it was because his previous maid was a much older woman – maybe with a boy only slightly younger than him he felt more comfortable asking questions. Because ask questions he did. The Enhanced seemed to know surprisingly little about the Unenhanced and Terra. Marco didn't know much, at the very least. Jean could imagine the type of propaganda that was released about the Unenhanced.

First, he had been surprised about their lack of an education system. Then, he began asking questions about work done there, and living conditions. Jean had been suspicious at first, and had asked why he wanted to know. Marco had shrugged, saying that he wanted to be head of security someday. That wasn't just security for the Enhanced. He had said he wanted to try and work for the Unenhanced as well. Jean had scoffed, but answered all of his questions anyway. After all, he had to speak when spoken to.

They ended up speaking more than was strictly appropriate, but Marco hardly seemed to care. Jean did, though; he needed to be careful. He only ever spoke to Marco when it was just the two of them, and he always had his guard up. Although Marco could relax around Jean, Jean could never, ever let himself relax around him. One tiny slip up could cross the line. One tiny slip up could convince Marco's father he wasn't suited for the job. One tiny slip up overheard by an Enhanced could end up badly for him, if they thought he was overstepping his boundaries.

He answered Marco's questions, yes; quietly, when he was certain they were alone. When anyone else was nearby, he hardly even looked at him.

In fairness to the older boy, he seemed to know when he was asking too much.

The only major occurrence of Marco asking Jean something he didn't want to answer, was on Saturday evening, after Marco's training. He had asked Jean about where he had worked beforehand.

"With Mr. Dawk, right? That's what I heard from my father."

Jean had nodded. "Yes, sir. I used to work for Mr. Dawk, a few years back."

Marco gave him a sidelong glance. "I've only met him a few times, but he's…very intimidating. That's an understatement; I'm terrified of him, and I'm the son of the head of security! I can't imagine what it would have been like to work for him."

Jean suppressed a shudder. "It's…" he had to be careful about what he said – he couldn't exactly go around badmouthing someone important in the Military Police. "Definitely nicer here."

Marco's lip curled upward in a small smile. "I figured. What was…he like?"

Jean swallowed tightly, his nails digging into the palms of his hands. "He was…a little trigger happy with his whips."

Marco tilted his head, looking vaguely put-off by the thought. "Whips? Why would he use whips? I thought most just used their dials to punish disobedience."

His casual tone irritated Jean. "Usually," he admitted. "But dials don't leave scars. Mr. Dawk had a fondness for making sure his…handiwork left a reminder."

Marco almost seemed confused. "Scars?"

Jean nodded, slightly unsure of himself. They were alone in Marco's room, but he strained his ear, trying to listen for any footsteps. It wouldn't do well to have him caught badmouthing Nile Dawk. "Yeah. Scars. I still have mine," he muttered.

Marco's eye lit up. "Scars! I totally forgot that the Unenhanced scarred," he said. Oh yeah – Jean had forgotten that the Enhanced rarely had scars. Any scar they had was usually removed surgically. Not for the Unenhanced, though. "Could you show me?" he continued, excitedly. "Your scars, I mean."

Jean froze. _No_, he wanted to reply. _No, fuck off_. Marco probably didn't have any scars, and wouldn't understand. These were…personal, almost. Not something he wanted some naïve Enhanced brat to be gawking at. But could he really say no to him? His mouth was dry.

Marco seemed to pick up on the tension that he suddenly showed. Eye widening slightly, he shook his head. "No. Wait. I probably went a little too far there, right?"

"Right, sir."

He chuckled awkwardly. "My bad."

Jean didn't say anything. Marco was silent for a while, thumbing through the pages of a book. "Y'know Jean," he said after a moment. "It's a pity you aren't Enhanced. If you were, I'm sure we could have been friends."

Jean said nothing.

* * *

Petra sighed, running her hand through her hair. "He's having friends over?"

Jean nodded, leaning against the wall. "Yeah. A study session, apparently."

"How many?"

"He said there'd be about eight of them there. Told me to tell you because they'll be wanting snacks and refreshments and shit like that."

Petra sighed. "This is the last thing I need," she muttered. "As if I wasn't busy enough!"

Jean frowned, sensing there was a little more to this. "You seemed more stressed out than usual," he commented carefully. "Is there something wrong with his friends?"

Petra mimicked his stance, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms. She glanced around, but of course, they were alone. Besides, they didn't have to worry about anyone Enhanced overhearing them; none would bother coming down to the Unenhanced quarters.

"There's nothing wrong with them," Petra said. "They're just…Enhanced."

Jean raised an eyebrow. "Well, he's not going to be pally with the Unenhanced, so-"

Petra shook her head, waving a hand to shut Jean up. "You probably know Jean, that…well. Marco isn't exactly the nicest towards the Unenhanced, but he's better than most."

Jean nodded. "Nicer than Nile Dawk, anyway," he said darkly.

She nodded in agreement. "The thing is that usually, you have two types of Enhanced. There are the ones who completely ignore you, and act as if you don't exist."

Jean snorted. "Ymir."

"Well – yeah. But they're not that bad, because if they're ignoring you, they're not treating you badly. The other type of Enhanced people are the ones who mess with you for fun. Anything from badmouthing you, to-"

"Whipping you? Using their dials? Murdering you when you've done nothing wrong?"

Petra gave Jean a look. "Marco is neither."

"Apart from, y'know, murdering his previous servant."

"_Jean_!"

"What was with that anyway?"

Petra gave Jean a withering look. "No one knows. Marco is polite to everyone, including his servants. He has never laid a hand on any of us before. And then one day, Mr. Bodt called him and his old maid into his office, and she never walked out again. I don't know why it happened, but it's best to forget about it."

"Forget about it?" Jean asked, eyebrows rising. "How am I supposed to just forget about it? If you hadn't noticed, if it happens again I'm gonna be the one killed!"

"Lower your voice!" Petra hissed. They both were silent for a moment. "He's polite, though, yeah?"

"A fuckin' saint," Jean grunted. "Has manners, asks me how my day was when he gets home, asks me how my sisters doing – he's polite. But he's polite to everyone, yeah?"

"Exactly. It doesn't seem like him to take anything out on the staff, right?"

Jean tilted his head for a moment, thinking about the night of the riot. He could remember it all too well; clutching Odette as her body kept twitching, having his back to those boys, still recovering from the last shock, as they called for Marco to go on, use his dial. He remembered all too well the sick feeling as he waited for the next shock to come. Marco hadn't used his dial that night, despite being perfectly able to, despite his friends egging him on.

"No, he doesn't," he admitted slowly. "Still."

Petra shook her head slowly. "I've gone way off topic. My original point is, Jean, that you don't have that much experience with Enhanced teenagers. Most of them have only recently gotten the hang of their Enhancements, and they're a little drunk on their own power. They're always itching for an excuse to use them."

Jean frowned, his brow creasing. "What, they'd even use it on the staff in someone else's house?"

"It's not uncommon," Petra said wearily. "We're nothing but scum, and there are usually a lot of people scrambling to replace us. If an Unenhanced died up here, it would barely even be an inconvenience." Petra paused, tilting her head to look at Jean. "You'll need to stay up there with them. Just, be careful okay? Some of those boys he's friends with, they're a bad influence. I'm sure you heard about that riot recently, right? They started that up."

Jean's hands clenched into fists. "Yeah, I've heard of it," he said bitterly. "It was my damn sister they used to test their dials."

Petra's face went slack. "That was you?" she hissed, shaking her head. "Okay Jean, it's best if we keep that between us, alright?"

Jean nodded. He slowly unclenched his fists.

Someone called Petra from the busy kitchen. "I've to go," she said, beginning to walk away. "Just – watch yourself, Kirschtein. Don't give them a reason to hurt you."

* * *

They were in one of the countless rooms in the house. Jean really didn't understand why they needed so many damn rooms when there were only four, sometimes five living there. He hadn't even been in half of them, and he still sometimes got lost navigating his way through the corridors.

This one was small, for an Enhanced house, which meant that Marco and his friends would consider it small, while in reality it would house Jean's entire apartment comfortably, more than once. It was a cozy room, filled with comfortable couches and armchairs and a huge bookcase and a massive TV. Sometimes Marco hung out with friends here.

Today though, he was determined to actually get some work done, or so he told Jean.

"We have exams in a few weeks, and we need to pass," he explained, spreading his textbooks on one of the tables. Jean didn't bother responding – what would he say? _You don't need to pass because even if you don't fucking show up you're gonna be living in this wealth? _No. "And some of my friends…they won't study unless there's someone there to make them."

"That sounds vaguely threatening," Jean muttered.

Marco laughed.

"Shit," he muttered after a moment. "I left my math book upstairs, will you-"

"On it," Jean said, leaving the room. It took him a minute to remember which damn way it was to Marco's bedroom, but he got there eventually. There were some books on his desk, but none of them were math. No math book on his shelves either. _He must have made a mistake_, Jean concluded. Either that or his eyesight was giving out.

He looked around the room again. No matter how many times he was in here, no matter how many times he had cleaned it from top to bottom; he would never get over the sheer wealth in this place. The bed was worth more than his entire apartment. Hell, the bed was probably worth more than he was.

He stood, glancing around, but of course; he was alone. Jean walked over, turned his back, and flopped down on the bed. It was incredibly soft and comfortable; so much nicer than the hard floor or hard bunks he was used to. The sheets and pillows were silky smooth, and the blankets were so soft and warm…for a moment, Jean imagined what it would be like to sleep in a bed like that every night. He spread his arms out, sighing.

A soft chuckle made him jump out of his skin.

Marco stood at the door, leaning on the doorframe. Jean jumped off of the bed hastily, embarrassment turning his cheeks red. "S-sorry, sir! I, uh, I-"

Marco laughed again. "It's alright," he said, a good natured smile on his face. "In case you're wondering, I found my math book."

Still with burning cheeks, Jean nodded.

(He couldn't help but notice; Marco brushed something like that off easily with a smile and a laugh. He doubted other Enhanced would do that."

He followed Marco through the house, back to the den. At one point they passed Ymir, Marco's intimidating cousin. Marco had invited her to join him and his friends. Ymir had asked if a Historia was going. When Marco said no, she scoffed and walked away.

Marco's friends came soon enough, all followed by a different Unenhanced servant. They bounded into the room, most of them beaming and full of energy and reluctant to study. Turned out, that more came than he had been expecting.

Including the two bastards who had used their dials on Odette.

His hands clenched into fists, and the anger was back, creeping through his bloodstream like poison. Here they were, greeting Marco with smiles, messing with the other Enhanced teenagers, laughing. They would have been murderers, and if they had killed her? They wouldn't care. Just like how they wouldn't care about how Jean was here, working his ass off so she might survive.

For a brief moment, thoughts of flying at them and pounding their dumb faces in crossed his mind. He pushed them out; as tempting as they were, Jean stood no chance of getting near them in a room full of Enhanced teenagers.

The other Unenhanced servants stood at the walls, heads bent. They didn't look at him, or each other, and Jean was itching to try and communicate with him. Right across from him stood a girl with red hair. He tried to make eye contact with her, but her gaze never left the ground.

A good Unenhanced servant lived to serve. They knew their place, they knew they were vermin. They never spoke to anyone unless asked a question. They controlled their feelings, hiding them behind unreadable masks. Those were the rules of being Unenhanced.

Jean had never been good at following rules. He could never just turn his emotions off, like a machine. But now, he was remembering the anger, how furious he was – he thought of Eren, directing all that fury and hate into Survey in an attempt to exact revenge – and Jean looked down.

He tried to smother his emotions. Don't show anything. Forget they're here. They're untouchable – all of them.

He didn't notice the slightly worried glance Marco sent him. He focused on hoping that those two boys wouldn't recognize him.

Eventually, they all quietened down and began to work; the only noises were the turning of pages and scribbling of notes. That was, until, an hour later, one of the girls – a brunette with long hair tied in a ponytail, shut her book. "I can't do this anymore," she said with a yawn. "I'm starving."

"Yeah," said the boy beside her, a small guy with a buzz cut. "Let's take a break." Murmurs of agreement spread through the group, and the first girl turned around, hanging over the back of the couch. "Oi," she called, clicking her fingers to get Jean's attention. "You. Go down to the kitchens, tell them Sasha's here. I've been here enough times for them to know what I want."

Jean gave a nod, and was about to turn when –

"Hoooooly shit, wait a second. Turn around."

The voice was too familiar.

"Nack…" he heard Marco say in a warning tone. Jean took a deep breath, slowly turning around.

The two boys from the night of the riot sat together on one of the couches, gawking at him. "Holy shit, Thomas," said the first voice, Nack, presumably. "It's _him_."

"Who?" asked one of the others, a blond kid only looking up from his book now.

"You're the one from back then," Thomas said. "The night of the riot."

Jean felt his mouth go dry. Thomas stood up, walking towards him. Marco sighed heavily. "Thomas. Leave him alone."

Thomas stopped when he was right in front of Jean, barely a foot away. Jean forced himself to keep looking down, even when he waved a hand in front of his face. "Hm," he said, sounding peeved. "You're so quiet now – you certainly weren't quiet back then."

Jean said nothing. He forced himself to think of Odette, and not how much he wanted to smash Thomas's nose in right now. Or about how much he wanted to run. The fear was coiling in his stomach, and he hated to admit it. He was so distracted he didn't hear what Nack said back.

The tension in the room was rising. Out of his peripheral vision he could see that red headed servant looking at him. "Wait," Sasha interrupted. "He's the guy who was with that girl? Why the hell is he working here?"

"Because we hired him," Marco said dryly. "And he's worked well so far, so I'd appreciate if you could just let him do his damn job."

The fact that Marco was…standing up for him made his mind reel.

"We're just having a little fun," Nack said.

"Yeah, the same fun that started a riot."

"Whatever," muttered Thomas, before going back to studying Jean. Jean could feel his heart rate speed up. "So, did she live? Who was that bitch you cared about so much? D'you fuck her or someth-"

"She's my sister," Jean had hissed, looking up and glaring at Thomas. It was only in the stunned silence that followed that he realized what he had done.

Thomas looked surprised, to say the least. He watched his eyes narrow, and next thing he had pulled his hand back before striking it across Jean's face, hard. Jean let out a small cry, stumbling back. "Don't you know your place, scum?" Thomas hissed.

"Thomas!" Marco yelled, anger in his voice for the first time since Jean had known him.

Thomas looked furious. "How dare you speak back to me, how dare you speak to your superiors like that, Unenhanced scum."

"Stop. Now." Marco stood up.

He punctuated the last word with another strike, this one hitting Jean in the jaw. He grunted, wanting nothing more than to run, but that would probably make everything worse. "I bet that's easier to take than the dial though, right?"

His smile was like a shark's, and Jean's eyes widened as his hand flew to his dial.

But someone caught his wrist; it was that girl, Sasha. One minute she had been across the room, but now she was here, and the goofy personality had dropped completely. "Thomas," she said, her voice light. "Marco told you to stop, and this is his house! So you can either stop, or get out."

Thomas looked from her, to Marco, to Jean. Eventually he pulled out of her grasp, moving to sit back down again.

"You can go get me my snack now," she said, turning to Jean.

Jean nodded and left the room, but he didn't move after that. He pressed his back against the closed door, straining his ear. His hands were shaking and he could feel his heartbeat pounding against his ribcage, like someone was belting out a loud rhythm on his chest. His skin stung where he had been hit – man, those kids were _strong_.

"What the fuck, man?" asked Thomas. "Why the hell are you so damn possessive of him, or whatever?"

Silence. And then;

"He didn't do anything, and I don't appreciate you beating my staff just because he annoyed you slightly."

"That's what they're for, isn't it? To serve us. And if they forget their place, it's ours to remind them of it."

There was a noise, like a tut of disapproval.

"Oh, you disagree, Armin?"

"Yeah, I do. I don't see the point of bullying them around for no reason."

"Ugh, you're sounding like Marlowe. Thank god he's not here. And I did have a reason – he spoke back to me."

"I'm speaking back to you now, you gonna hit me?"

"Different. You're Enhanced, he's not."

"Besides," that was Nack's voice. "If it was me, I would have given him a ten the second he walked in here, Marco. For what happened that night."

"I'm not you," Marco said coolly. "I'm not as trigger happy with my dial as you are, either."

"Uhh," came a voice. The kid with the buzz cut. "If you guys would shut up and listen, you'd be able to realize he's still outside, listening to us."

Damn enhanced hearing.

Jean bolted to the kitchens.

* * *

Marco grunted, dropping low and rolling to avoid the energy blasts. He came to his feet, and when the chunk of wood was hurled towards him, he slammed through it with his right arm. The metal limb sank through it like a knife through butter. He whirled, catching the first instructor by the shoulder and hauled him up, throwing him into the second.

Another instructor ran towards him, but Marco dropped to one knee, his other leg darting out to take out his legs. When he stumbled, Marco shot up and grabbed him by the shirt with his metal arm, flinging him to the other side of the room.

Jean watched Marco's training session from the corner. So far, it consisted of Marco throwing about like, ten other guys twice his size and age. He had sat in on one of his training sessions before, but he seemed much more…intense, this time. As if he was really blowing off steam, as if he was angry.

It was Saturday morning. One more day before he could see Odette again. The morning after the disastrous study session with his friends.

In the end, when he went to the kitchens he had ran into Petra. She of course, had seen the red streaks on his cheeks, the trembling of his hands, and the look in his eyes. She sent someone else up with the snacks and to serve for the evening, and brought Jean into the kitchen to press ice against his face. She could be intimidating, but she really did care about her staff.

Marco's instructor called a break, and the men he was sparring with all left the room. Marco stayed, wiping at the back of his neck with a towel. "Jean?" he called. Jean grabbed the jug of water and a glass, bringing it down to him. The taller boy slumped on the ground, drinking gratefully. "Thanks."

He shifted into a more comfortable position. "You can sit too, y'know," he said.

"Okay." Jean hesitated, before sitting beside him.

Silence hung between them. Not unusual, but unlike the usual…professional silences, this one felt awkward. "I'm sorry about last night," he said, after a while. "Thomas and Nack's enhanced abilities must be that they're extremely stupid."

Jean was a little taken aback by the apology. "It's…uh, it's…alright, I guess. Would have been worse if you hadn't stopped it."

"That was Sasha, mostly," Marco said. His good eye locked onto Jean's for a minute, before drifting to the two dark marks on his face. His frown deepened. "I didn't stop them last time," he said quietly.

Jean shook his head.

"You're seeing your sister tomorrow, right?" Marco asked.

"Yeah."

Another silence.

"I really am sorry, Jean. Not just for last night, but for what they did to you and your sister."

It sounded so sincere that Jean felt like he had been slapped in the face again. He opened his mouth and shut it again, like a goldfish, unsure of what to say.

Marco took a deep breath, eyes leaving Jean's bruises. "I mean," he ran his flesh hand across the steel plates of his right arm. "All my life, I've known that we had this power of y…over the Unenhanced. And I just accepted it as normal. But now, I've seen what we can do. What I can do. And I don't like it as much as I did."

His words were practically falling over each other as he spoke, rushing to get it out. He gave Jean a weird look; almost nervous about how he'd respond, while relieved to have finally said it. Jean was stunned, and looked at him stupidly for a few minutes.

"Thanks," he said, after a while. Not really fitting, but…Jean felt like he needed to say it.

Marco gave him a smile then; a genuine one, even if it was small. In retrospect, compared to others, Marco really wasn't a bad person to work for.

Silence fell again, but this one was much more companionable.

* * *

"What the fuck happened to your face?" Odette asked, as soon as he walked in the door.

He ignored her question at first, coming in to wrap his arms around her gently. He could feel her smiling into his shoulder. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, bro," she said, pushing him away. "But what did you do to your face? Try to fix it, or something?"

"Oi."

Odette gave him a grin. Jean sat down on one end of the couch, and she rested her feet on his lap. It was strange, being back in this dump after spending two weeks in Caelum. "A petty Enhanced bastard, that was what happened," he said, by way of explanation. He didn't mention it was the two who had used their dials on her.

Odette rolled her eyes. "I hate you having to work for them," she said.

Jean scoffed. "What, you gonna tell me I should be working for Survey instead? Well, before you get started, Eren already gave me _that_ lecture."

Odette rolled her eyes. "No, idiot. Survey is a lost cause already – I don't know how Eren or anyone else can believe we can overthrow the Enhanced. You're better off without them." She was silent for a moment. "I just hate the fact that you're away nearly all week, at their mercy."

"We need the money, Odette."

"We've managed fine before."

"That was before you got sick again."

"Yeah?" her voice was rising. Not good; it was best for her to stay calm, in case she would get too worked up. "Well I'd rather be sick if you were here, than be wealthy when you're up doing God knows what for them."

She finished with a cough.

Jean sighed. "I don't want to do it," he agreed. "But you're all I have left. Mom's gone, Dad was never really here to begin with, and if you're gone, I'll be alone. And I'd take seeing you once a week over never seeing you again."

Odette was silent. "Whatever," she said eventually, but Jean could tell she wasn't happy. "Just be careful around them, right?"

"I know. I survived Nile Dawk, I can survive Jeremiah Bodt." Jean rubbed absentmindedly at the bruises on his face. "Besides, I only really see his son. And for an Enhanced guy, he's pretty decent."

Odette snorted. "They're all bastards on the inside."

"Don't curse."

"Pfft. You're one to talk, _mom_."

"I'm not your mother."

"No, she was killed by _them_."

Jean sighed. "We don't know that-"

"Oh, come on, Jean." Odette leaned back against the armrest, ash brown hair falling over her spindly shoulders. "Where else is she going to be? If you think she's gonna waltz in and come home someday, then you're just as much of a dreamer as Eren Jaeger."

Jean didn't say anything for a minute. "You're not exactly making this easy, Odette."

"Yeah. I know."

Jean looked over to her, and was alarmed to see tears brimming in her eyes. She suddenly looked exhausted, as if she was weary from her outburst. Jean opened his mouth, about to try and comfort her, when the apartment door slammed open.

"Mikasa?"

Odette quickly wiped at her eyes as Mikasa stormed in. But it wasn't her usual calm self; she was panicked. Her grey eyes were blown wide, and the look on her face could only be described as fearful. Immediately, Jean felt a twist in his stomach. Mikasa was scared, and she was one of the most fearless people he knew. But there was also a fierce, determined glint in her eyes. From old missions for Survey, Jean recognized it as the look she had before a fight.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Eren," she responded immediately. "He's gone and gotten himself caught."

The blood drained out of Jean's face. "What?"

"It wasn't much," she added quickly. "He wasn't caught with Survey."

Jean exhaled heavily, letting his head fall back on the couch. That was something, at least; if he had been caught doing something for Survey, he would have been executed on the spot. "What happened?" he asked, standing up. Odette sat up straight.

"He was caught stealing," Mikasa said. "He was caught by the guards. They – they whipped him in the square, he's still there."

Jean winced. Whippings from guards were just as bad as the whippings Nile Dawk had given out. The victims were set hanging from their wrists in the main square of Terra, whipped in public by the Enhanced and left there to hang, no food, no water, until they decided to release him.

"Idiot," Jean muttered.

"Help me free him," Mikasa said immediately. "I can nearly do it myself – I just need a distraction."

"What – me?"

"Yes, you."

"Why me? Why not one of your accomplices in Survey?"

"Because they're Survey – if one of them were caught, they could be executed."

"And if I'm caught? Worst case scenario, I'm executed. Best case scenario? I'm whipped, and I lose my job, and lose a way to pay for Odette's medicine."

"Jean, please-"

"Jean." Odette swung her legs off of the couch. "You should do it. While you've been off playing slave for some stuck up Enhanced kid, Mikasa's been the one caring for me and keeping me company. We owe her this much, at least."

Jean looked at Odette. She was pissed at him, that much was clear. He could kind of understand how she felt; she felt like he was abandoning her. Leaving her down here, while he went to Caelum. But it wasn't that way at all.

He glanced at Mikasa. Eren and Mikasa were close friends, but the risk of getting caught…

Odette had always admired Mikasa. She was only one example of how strong women could be, Mikasa was competent and strong and smart and beautiful, all in one. She was everything Odette dreamed of being, but could never be.

She really was older than her fifteen years, Jean thought.

He turned back to Mikasa with a sigh. "You better have a plan, Ackerman."

* * *

They waited until curfew fell.

By 10pm, every evening, all Unenhanced citizens were required to stay inside. Of course, it didn't stop them from going outside – everyone knew how to run and do their best to dodge the Military Police – but it cleared the streets for the most part.

Jean knew from Survey missions how the guards patrolled: there were always at least two on the rooftops, a pair for every few streets. More pairs walked the streets, looking for stray Unenhanced to punish. In the main square, where Eren was, there would be twice that many. No wonder Mikasa needed a distraction to get a chance to free him.

Jean darted through the night, pressing close to the shadows of the buildings. In Caelum, there were always bright lights, so even at night it was never really dark. Down in Terra, it was always dark. Above, the lights of Caelum twinkled, and there were dim streetlights every few meters. Jean was wearing his darkest clothes, and to an Unenhanced, he would be near invisible. He wouldn't have the same luck with the Enhanced.

As silent as a mouse, he crept along the street. He darted into an alleyway when he heard a pair of guards turn the corner.

"Hey," he heard one say. "Did you hear that?"

Jean moved as fast as he could while making as little noise as possible. He headed down the alleyway, coming to a wall. A dead end. He could hear the guards getting closer. Taking a few steps back, he ran and jumped, landing on a trashcan and jumping again. His hands curled around the top of the wall, his feet scrambled to find purchase on the old brick. He swung himself over, letting himself hang on the other side, just out of sight of the guards. He waited until they moved away before hauling himself up on the wall.

From this height, he could scan the low rooftops. The rooftops of Terra were like a maze: all the same height, with massive skyscrapers rising out of the ground at random intervals. It was mostly quiet down here; talk and crying and laughter could just about be heard. Above, he could just about hear the hum of traffic and busy Enhanced life.

He studied the rooftops. The guards all stood out in the dark, with their bright uniforms. Moving quietly, Jean crept across the length of the wall, keeping still and preparing to drop at any moment. He was near the main square, now. Near Eren. He slid off of the wall, landing in a crouch at the corner of a street. He dumped the backpack off of his shoulders, yanking it open.

Ah, distractions. Mikasa's plan had been thought through, at least, but a lot could go wrong.

Jean picked out the first firework (when he had asked her how she had gotten a hold of fucking fireworks, she responded with "the black market, _duh_.") and set it into the ground. Pulling the lighter out of his pocket, he quickly lit it.

No time to be quiet now.

Jean raced across the street, vaulting over a heap of rubbish and crouching. The firework screamed as it shot into the air, raining purple sparks. The effect was immediate; Unenhanced faces crowding to look outside of windows, Enhanced guards racing to inspect the scene. Jean grinned, jumping to his feet and running again.

He ran across three streets before lighting the next one. He continued to run, edging closer to the main square to get the attention of the guards before running away, leading them on a wild goose chase. The adrenaline began to pump through his veins; he had forgotten what this was like. Running for your life, the thrill of a mission, the anticipation and excitement, knowing that you were defying the Enhanced. He found himself grinning as he raced along the street.

He nearly laughed, making the sky explode with colors, as the Enhanced guards got more and more confused. With any luck, the guards around the main square were searching for the culprit, and not paying attention to Mikasa. Checking his bag, he frowned, seeing only one firework left. Better make this one count.

"There!" he heard one call. "There he is!"

Shit.

It was always exciting until they found you. Jean yanked his hood up, pumping his arms through the air as he willed his body to move faster. His feet slammed into the ground, picking up speed. The fear began to kick in, especially as he could hear his pursuers gaining on him.

He was nearly at the main square now, once he made sure Mikasa and Eren were out of there, he would go down to the underground; the true slums of Terra, and lose them there. Speeding up, he jumped, grabbing hold of a windowsill. His muscles screamed in protest as he pushed himself up, but he didn't let himself stop. He kept pushing onwards, hauling himself up to the next windowsill.

There was a terrifying moment when the brick crumbled and he lost his grip, hanging from one hand from the window of a third floor. If he fell, surely he would break his foot, and be left for the Enhanced. He couldn't let that happen. Gritting his teeth, he swung up and caught the windowsill with his other hand. He climbed up the side of the building, rolling onto the rooftop just as the Enhanced reached it.

He flung his bag down into the face of the first one climbing the roof, sprinting away before he could focus on him and use his dial. He kept running across the uneven rooftops, slipping several times on broken slates. He didn't stop running though; if he stopped he would be caught.

He thought of Eren and Mikasa, who were hopefully making their way underground. He thought of Odette, strong spirited as ever, waiting for him to come back. He thought of Marco, lying in the lap of luxury and completely unaware of what was going on, but fully expecting to see him tomorrow.

Jean ran faster.

The Enhanced were on the roofs now, and they were gaining fast. They were stronger and faster than him; it was only a matter of time. Still holding the last firework, Jean lit it awkwardly while still running. There was a sudden shock as his collar buzzed, and the next thing he knew pain was flashing down through his whole body. He cried out, and nearly fell to his knees. He threw the firework behind him; just in time.

It went off, spinning madly, and nearly flew into the face of the nearest guard. It exploded in a shower of green sparks, and Jean could feel the heat from it at his back. The guard lost his focus on Jean, and the pain disappeared. Jean was on the main square now. He grabbed a drainage pipe and slid down it to the ground.

Shit.

Mikasa was still there.

He bolted across the square to where she was struggling to untie Eren from the wooden frame. They doubled as gallows, but for cases like Eren, they simply let him hang by his wrists. His shirt was off, instead leaving a horrible layer of bloody scars on his back. He was unconscious, and there was another man out beside him.

"The last of the guards only left at that last one," Mikasa said, as Jean helped her untie Eren. They finally got it loose, and he slumped to the ground, to be caught by his sister. "I only just got here."

She swung him over her shoulder, staggering a little under his weight. Jean glanced at the other man hanging by his wrists.

"C'mon," he hissed. "We can't just leave him."

Mikasa hesitated, and then nodded, helping him untie the man. "You'll have to carry him," she said. "And we'll have to move fast." They got him free just as one of the guards yelled, pointing them out to her comrades.

Jean slung the man over his back, and they both shot off. "Split up," he yelled to Mikasa at the first fork in the road. She nodded, moving left. Jean headed right.

It was harder this way. The man was heavy, and he was losing speed quickly. His heart was racing, but he was already tired. And he couldn't move up onto the roofs with someone on his back.

He judged by the sounds behind him that the Enhanced were splitting up to try and catch them. He breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short lived. He could hear one pair of footprints following him. Would he be able to take on a guard?

Guess it was time to find out.

Jean couldn't run for much longer. He slowed, turning to face the guard. All he saw was a flash of a bright uniform, fire crackling in a man's hand, and he raised his arms in an effort to protect himself.

And then there was a smash, a grunt, and the guard fell forward, landing face first on the ground with blood spurting from a head wound.

Jean's eyes widened, and he stumbled back a few steps.

Three people came out from behind the corner, one holding a metal pipe that still had the guard's blood on it, from when they hit him around the head with it. Recognition flickered in Jean's eyes as he recognized the trio; some of the most lethal Unenhanced he had met, some of the most skillful in all of Survey.

"A-Annie," he managed, after a moment or two. "Reiner, Bertl!"

They didn't waste time with greetings. "What the hell are you doing out here, Kirschtein?" Annie Leonhardt questioned, twirling the pipe in her fingers. "You would have been Enhanced food if it wasn't for us."

Reiner put a big hand on Jean's shoulder. "We can ask questions later, Annie," he said, before turning to Jean. Usually he was good humored and kind hearted, but right now, he had a serious expression on his face. "We need to talk with you Jean. Survey need to talk to you."

Jean was confused, the past few minutes having passed in a blur. He was extremely relieved; he had been saved, but worried for Miaksa, and as much as he liked Reiner, there was no way he was going back to Survey.

"No," he said, after a moment, but he didn't shake Reiner's hand off. "I'm done with Survey."

"We just saved your life," Annie hissed. "Talk to use in private, you owe us at least that."

"I…" Jean began.

"Uhh…," Bertholdt cut in, the gentle giant taking a few steps towards them. "Can we argue underground? There are more Enhanced headed this way."

Reiner looked at Jean, eyebrows raised in question. "You coming or not?"

Jean sighed. "Fine."

"Then come on," said Annie. "We need to get off the streets."


End file.
